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LADY GREEN SATIN 

AND 

HER MAID ROSETTE 




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£ady Careen Satin and Her <JvLaid 'Rosette 





LADY GREEN SATIN 

AND 

HER MAID ROSETTE 

THE HISTORY OF JEAN PAUL 
AND HIS LITTLE WHITE MICE 


TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF THE 

BARONESS Ec MARTINEAU DES CHESNEZ 

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 

CLARA WHITEHILL HUNT 

AND ILLUSTRATIONS BY 

WINIFRED BROMHALL 



u gork 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
1923 


All rights reserved 


Copyright, 1923 

By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 


Set up and printed. Published September, 1923 



PRINTED IN TIIE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 


SEP 19 1923 

©C1A759006 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Showing what an errand well done 

BROUGHT TO JEAN PAUL .... 1 

II. Our two Heroines are presented to 

THE READER. 9 

III. A GREAT STEP IS TAKEN, ABOUT WHICH 

MY LADY AND ROSETTE ARE NOT CON¬ 
SULTED . 25 

IV. First performance.34 

V. “And lead us not into temptation” 43 

VI. Jean Paul is robbed, but still rich 50 

VII. Jean Paul buys a bed and sheets . 58 

VIII. Good cabbages, and bad heart . . 65 

IX. Where Madeleine appears ... 69 

X. The chestnuts of the Luxembourg 74 

XI. Jean Paul acts as nurse .... 79 

XII. The little tickets.89 

XIII. Rain and tears ....... 93 

XIV. Tis AN ILL WIND THAT BLOWS NO ONE 

GOOD. 107 

XV. A cat! . 118 

XVI. Jean Paul acquires a love for 

CLEANLINESS. 123 

XVII. Mademoiselle Jean Paul . . . 131 

XVIII. Jean Paul has a secretary . . . 139 

v 








VI 


Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XIX. Jean Paul dines out. 146 

' XX. Jean Paul’s first step in literature 150 

XXI. A good lesson. 157 

XXII. A case of conscience. 172 

XXIII. Jean Paul has a plate set for him 176 

XXIV. Jean Paul no longer has a sec¬ 
retary . .184 

XXV. The Tuileries. The presentation . 191 

XXVI. Jean Paul goes into the fashion¬ 
able world.202 

XXVII. Jean Paul makes a present . . . 216 

XXVIII. Other gifts from Jean Paul . . 220 

XXIX. News from his own country and 

plans for the future .... 225 

XXX. Monsieur Fumeron has his stair¬ 
case WASHED BY PROXY . . . .235 

XXXI. Jean Paul is misunderstood . . . 241 

XXXII. Jean Paul regains his reputation . 253 


XXXIII. A mystery. 256 

XXXIV. My lady and Rosette do not go on 

THE JOURNEY .266 

XXXV. M. and Mme. Fumeron lose two 

LODGERS ........ 268 

XXXVI. Monsieur Jean Paul wished it . . 273 

XXXVII. Tile good God permitted it . . . 274 








ILLUSTRATIONS 

Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette.. .Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Up the hill. 1 

Our heroines . 9 

The little girls cried with all their might, “Again, 

again!” . 11 

Our heroines in costume. 24 

He took his red cap off and handed it to each of the 

spectators . 37 

Jean Paul, traveler. 43 

“Ho! ho! coachman! stop l” cried Jean Paul. 45 

“Now make them perform and you will be well 

paid for it” . 51 

Jean Paul’s first night in Paris. 58 

Jean Paul and Madeleine. 74 

“So wet, so wet!” . 93 

Madeleine at work . 107 

New dresses for our heroines. 117 

“Look at our Jean Paul!”. 123 

Mademoiselle Jean Paul. 137 

Jean Paul learning to read. 150 

The wonderful newspaper.. 157 

Instead of the soup, Jean Paul found—. 185 

Madame the Countess . 191 

What a performance! . 209 

“I have forgotten my beans!”. 229 

“The End” . 275 































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INTRODUCTION 


T T is the opinion of our most far-seeing leaders that 
one of the chief causes of war is the ignorance of 
the great mass of people regarding those who speak 
a different language and live under a different govern¬ 
ment from their own. This ignorance breeds narrow¬ 
mindedness, prejudice, provincialism of outlook, from 
which a few bad leaders can easily manage to create 
misunderstandings which inevitably are followed by a 
resort to arms. 

It is no wonder that the best statesmen urge the train¬ 
ing of our citizens in the habit of the “international 
mind,” for only as every least voter comes to have 
breadth of outlook and sympathy for people of other 
lands can we hope to do away with that trait of the 
barbarian who survives in every ignorant human, 
prejudice against anyone whose ways and speech are 
unlike his own. 

A very solemn and quite irrelevant introduction to 
a simple story of a little French peasant boy, this may 
seem. Those, however, who are best acquainted with 
young children and who have studied the effect of early 
prejudices upon the whole life, know that one of the 
surest means of arousing an interest which will survive 
the passage of years is to give to children stories that 
will take strong hold upon their imaginations. Many 
an adult who has never seen Switzerland loves that 
beautiful land for the sake of “Heidi,” whose story was 
first heard from mother’s lips at bedtime reading hour. 


IX 


X 


Introduction 


There are a number of lovely stories of other lands 
to which all children should have access, but the num¬ 
ber is small. The written-to-order, supplementary- 
reading-book affair is not the sort that contributes what 
we mean. It is the story by a writer who understands 
and loves children, who possesses imagination and style, 
who has an intimate personal knowledge of his subject 
and an eagerness to make his characters live in the 
hearts of his young readers that will make a lasting 
and a valuable impression. 

Years ago a much worn volume containing the story 
of Jean Paul and his performing mice was called to 
my attention by an adult who told me that this little 
book had had exactly the effect upon her which I have 
described. Her interest in the country of Jean Paul 
and Madeleine, made real to her by the story of these 
beloved children, did not cease with childhood but 
grew with her growth. 

While this is a tale of another generation, its appeal 
to the unspoiled child reader of today will be the 
greater because of its quaint differentness from the 
child’s own life; and those American children who have 
''adopted” French war orphans will have an especially 
warm interest in the fatherless boy who so bravely 
helped his mother and sisters. 

If this little book becomes a means of wakening in 
even a few of our boys and girls a love for the gallant 
land of Lafayette it will have justified the faith which 
has led to its reprinting. 

Clara Whitehill Hunt. 


Brooklyn, April, 1923. 



Chapter I 


Showing what an errand well done brought to 
Jean Paul 


D O you see the little boy climbing that steep hill? 

He is on his way to Escaladios, a little village in 
the Pyrenees. What a large pitcher he is carrying! 
How heavy it must be! It is so full—he is carrying it 
very steadily, fearing to spill a drop of the pure water 
which he has gone so far to seek. 

I will tell you his name: it is Jean Paul, and his 
mother’s name is Jane. He lives yonder, on the hill, 
1 





2 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

in that poor cottage. Every day in good or bad 
weather he goes to the spring at the end of the village 
to fill his big pitcher and to mount with it along the 
great highway. Sometimes the sun is burning, some¬ 
times the snow chills his little feet, or the rain wets him 
to the skin—Jean Paul never fails to go. He has also 
other tasks: he picks up the deadwood in the forest, 
he gleans the fields after harvest, and he gathers grass 
to feed his rabbits. 

Jean Paul is about nine years old and he is not large 
for his age. But he knows that he must work with all 
his strength. His father is dead; and his mother is 
very weak and sad since the death of this beloved 
father, and his four little sisters are all younger than 
he. The youngest, the little Marie, does not walk yet, 
so when Jean Paul returns to the house he takes her in 
his arms and walks with her in the road; it is he who 
lulls her to sleep, and who puts her to bed. Jean Paul 
has so much resolution and good will that one might 
say that he knew how to do everything. 

One day when he had been holding Marie in his arms 
before their cottage, he entered quickly, and gave the 
child to his mother Jane. “Have the goodness to take 
her, mother,” said he. “Monsieur Legras is calling 
me; without doubt he has an errand for me to do, and 
this evening I will bring you back a nice ten-sous 
piece.” While speaking, he embraced his mother, put 
on his little cap, and ran to meet a big farmer who was 
on the road beckoning to him. The farmer took a let¬ 
ter from his pocket and explained to the child that he 
must carry it to its address without loss of time, and 
bring back an answer. “You have two leagues to go. 


3 


What an Errand Brought to Jean Paul 

and two leagues to come back, my little man,” said M. 
Legras, “but it is yet early, and you will be able to 
return home to your mother before night. The person 
to whom you carry this letter will give you your din¬ 
ner.” Jean Paul set off quickly; he knew the road 
well, for he had gone over almost the whole of it 
before. 

Three o’clock was striking when he knocked at a 
large door, and asked for M. Thibault. “I have a letter 
for him which requires an immediate answer.” M. Thi¬ 
bault was out. His servant made the little messenger 
come in, and gave him something to eat and drink. 
Soon after he fell asleep upon a chair waiting the re¬ 
turn of the master of the house. Suddenly some one 
woke him up and handed him a letter. “Go quickly, 
my child; here is the answer which you have asked for. 
Carry it without delay to M. Legras. Take these ten 
sous to pay for your trouble, and this piece of bread 
and glass of cider.” Jean Paul rubbed his eyes, drank 
the glass of cider, which woke him up completely, put 
the bread jn his cap, and the ten-sous piece in the 
corner of his handkerchief, which he tied up carefully, 
made a bow, and set off gaily, the letter in his hand. 

Jean Paul did not suspect that he had been asleep 
three long hours. At the moment he started six o’clock 
struck; in an hour it would be dark. Jean Paul did 
not see a great black cloud which advanced so quickly 
that it would soon cover the sky entirely. The child 
sang as he walked, and looked to the right and left, 
thinking at the same time of his dear mother and his 
little sisters. “The ten-sous piece shall be for my 
mother, but this big piece of white bread shall be for 


4 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

my sisters, who will like it much better than the black 
bread they eat every day. Happy day l” said the good 
little Jean Paul, jumping with joy. 

Suddenly he felt large and heavy drops of rain fall 
on his face and hands, a severe flash of lightning daz¬ 
zled him, the thunder seemed to burst above his head, 
while the rain increased, and night had come on. Hap¬ 
pily the child had but a short distance to go before 
arriving at one of those stables where cattle are kept 
during the winter. He ran quickly thither, shut the 
door, shook the water from his clothes, reflected a 
moment, then knelt down to thank God for all the good 
things He had given to him during the past day, and 
prayed that He would protect him during the coming 
night. 

And now behold him lying on the ground with 
a bundle of hay under his head, sleeping tranquilly, 
while the rain is pouring down, and the thunder shakes 
the earth and the lightning seems to tear the heavens. 
Jean Paul sleeps as quietly as if he were sleeping by 
the side of his mother. Why should he be afraid of 
the storm ? Does he not know that it is God who causes 
the storm as well as the sunshine? Does he not know 
that the good God watches over him the same as if it 
were a bright moonlight night? And then Jean Paul 
has that peace in his heart which God has promised to 
give to the good. 

Near midnight Jean Paul awoke. The thunder had 
ceased, but the rain fell in torrents, and the child heard 
it falling on the roof of the stable. He had already 
slept several hours in the daytime and was no longer 
sleepy; he seated himself upon his pillow of hay, and 


5 


What an Errand Brought to Jean Paul 

began to look around him without seeing anything at 
all, as it was a dark night. After a little while he felt 
hungry, as all children do when they awake. He 
thought of his piece of white bread, but all at once he 
thought also of his little sisters. “Bah!” said he to 
himself. “I can wait very well until breakfast time 
tomorrow morning when I shall be at home.” 

“He, he! he, he, he! he, he!” Jean Paul did not 
move; he held his breath; he saw something like great 
red beads which shone through the darkness, and he 
heard again, but more distinctly, “He! he! he!” This 
time the bright beads had changed their places and had 
come quite near him. Jean Paul leaned forward to 
catch them. He caught in each hand something warm 
and soft. The moon at this moment shone through 
the clouds, and Jean Paul saw with delight that he had 
in each hand a little mouse as white as snow. It was 
their eyes that he had seen shining in the darkness. 
Now he could see their little red feet, their tiny ears, 
their pretty, long, slender tails. 

At the moment Jean Paul had caught them, the little 
rogues were creeping into his cap, which he had placed 
by his side, and were beginning to nibble the nice bread 
which he had put there for his sisters. They had been 
there a long time during his sleep, for they had nibbled 
it in more than one place. In spite of this, Jean cannot 
call these pretty animals enough pet names. He cannot 
caress them, for his two hands are busy holding them, 
and if he releases his hold ever so little he feels that the 
nimble little creatures will run away. In the meantime 
he ceases to hear the rain fall on the roof; the wind 
is lulled, the moon is so bright one might think it was 


6 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

day. Jean Paul said to himself that it was time to start 
for home. But where should he put the dear little 
animals? After reflecting well, he slipped them one 
after the other into his blouse, and as soon as his hands 
were free, tightened his belt around his waist, in order 
that they might not escape; then he put on his cap and 
started on his way. But the rogues! what races they 
ran in the poor, worn-out blouse ! how they tickled Jean 
Paul! Ha! here they are in his sleeves; one of them 
even runs up his back. They begin to gnaw the cloth, 
which is so old that their little teeth tear it easily. 
Luckily Jean Paul put his hand over the hole at the 
moment a little white head peeped out of it and seized 
the runaway. An idea strikes him! He puts the little 
fellow in his cap, which he holds firmly on his head, 
and with the hand that is free, he takes the other mouse 
from his blouse, puts it also in his cap, takes his hand¬ 
kerchief from his pocket, passes it over his head and 
ties it firmly under his chin, after assuring himself that 
the dear ten sous piece was safe. His cap is made of 
very strong leather, and Jean Paul’s hair is so thick, 
that he neither feels the little feet that run, nor the little 
teeth which try to bite. 

“Halloo, mice!” said he to them on starting again, 
“you are in a nice little granary; you will not die there 
of hunger, for you have that piece of white bread that 
you have already begun to eat, little thieves! I will let 
you finish it; do you hear?” Jean Paul laughed heart¬ 
ily, jumped with joy, and started off running. 

It was a very fine night after the storm. It was so 
calm, nature seemed to be asleep; nothing was heard 
but the water of the swollen streams which ran along 


7 


What an Errand Brought to Jean Paid 

the highway, and now and then, u PIe! he! he!” in Jean 
Paul’s cap. '‘Be good, up there!” said he, and he gave 
a little knock on his head. 

The moon still shone when Jean Paul entered his 
mother’s house. He passed by his sleeping sisters with¬ 
out making a noise. Instead of going to bed, he 
climbed lightly a little ladder which was placed in the 
corner of the chamber, and which led to a miserable 
garret. There was a great trunk there, where mother 
Jane formerly locked up the linen and clothes of the 
family, but now the poor woman and her children had 
no other clothes than those they wore every day, and 
the trunk was empty. Jean Paul opened it partly and 
slipped into it the two little mice, one after the other. 
He then crumbled the bread which was left in his cap, 
and threw it into the trunk which he shut without mak¬ 
ing a noise; then he descended the ladder quietly, went 
to bed, and slept. 

He was not the last one to get up the next morning. 
As soon as he opened his eyes, he remembered the letter 
that M. Thibault had given him, dressed himself 
quietly, and ran with it to M. Legras. The good man 
insisted upon giving him another ten-sous piece. In 
vain Jean Paul told him that he had been paid by M. 
Thibault. “It is on account of the storm that I give 
it,” said M. Legras. 

Jean Paul returned home quite proud. “Look what 
I have brought you!” said he, embracing his mother, 
and giving her the two pieces of money. “And I have 
brought for my sisters—” here he stopped suddenly. 
He was going to say, “two little white mice,” but he 
thought that his sisters would all go up together to the 


8 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

garret to see the little creatures, they would open the 
trunk, and would let them run away—he stopped then. 

“What—what have you brought us?” said the little 
girls. 

“Plenty of kisses,” said Jean Paul, and he embraced 
them all, one after the other. 

“Well, then, it is we who are going to surprise you!” 
cried the little girls. “You shall see!” The three 
eldest surrounded Jean Paul, and left little Marie at 
the other end of the room. “Hold out your arms to 
her, Jean Paul. Marie walked all alone, yesterday, 
after you went away,” cried the elder ones. “Marie, 
come; little Marie come!” 

The dear little one came forward to her brother, and 
he caught her in his arms. “Bravo, Marie! Bravo!” 
said all the children, and they covered her with kisses. 



Chapter II 


Our two Heroines are presented to the reader 
MONTH afterward the mother, Jane, was sew- 



^ ing, seated on a bench at the door of her house. 
Her little daughters were running and playing near 
her. She looked about for Jean Paul and did not see 


him. 


“Go and look for him!” said she. “I am sure that 
he is in the garret. What can he be doing there? 
Jean Paul is very much changed; formerly, unless some 
work obliged him to go out, he was always with his 
sisters, or by me; now, as soon as he has brought the 
water in the morning, he goes up into that miserable 
garret and remains there until he comes to eat his soup. 
It is true that Marie walks now and she does not require 
him so much. 

“But what can he be doing there all alone ? When I 


9 




10 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

go up unexpectedly I always find him sitting upon the 
big trunk, looking uneasy. If I ask him why he stays 
there, he replies that he is amusing himself. He is a 
good boy, Jean Paul, and he used to be a good worker.” 

While his mother is asking herself these questions, 
let us go and see what our friend Jean Paul is doing 
in his garret. Here he is, climbing up the last step of 
the ladder and entering on tiptoe. He puts his hand in 
his pocket, from which he takes a crust of cheese and 
some crumbs of bread, the remains of his breakfast. 
Then he raises the lid of the big trunk and presents to 
the two mice his hand filled with bread and cheese, like 
a little dinner table. He begins to laugh when he sees 
these two little creatures seating themselves by his hand, 
taking up the pieces with their fore paws and putting 
them in their mouths. The meal being over, Jean Paul 
makes them jump over a little stick, which he holds each 
time a little higher, that they may learn to jump very 
high; and then he orders them to wash themselves, and 
the two little creatures rub their noses with their small 
feet. “Now, you, who are the biggest, pretend to be 
sick, and the little one must take care of madame.” 
Then one of the mice laid itself down in the corner of 
the big trunk, whilst the other went backwards and 
forwards, coming near to its companion and putting its 
little feet over its body. “Very good!” said Jean Paul, 
“I am satisfied with you; you improve.” 

He was going to shut up the trunk, when ever so 
many little hands held up the cover. “More, more!” 
said little Marie, who wanted the little creatures to 
repeat their tricks. The three other little girls cried 
also with all their might, “Again! again!” Jean Paul 





THE LITTLE GIRLS CRIED WITH ALL THEIR MIGHT, “AGAIN, AGAIN !” 
































































Our Two Heroines Presented to the Reader 13 

was surprised and frightened at being surrounded in 
this manner. He had been so deeply interested in his 
pupils that he had not heard his sisters come up. The 
mice were still more surprised and frightened than he: 
one of them, seeing the trunk wider open than usual, 
took advantage of it to climb to the top, and jumping 
lightly on the floor, he ran away so very quickly that 
they could not see where he was. The little girls pur¬ 
sued him everywhere, screaming and laughing. Poor 
Jean Paul was in despair: “Mother! mother!” cried he, 
“have pity on me! and call to my sisters to come down. 
Come, mother, come, and take them away, I beg of you; 
they prevent me from catching my mouse! Mother, 
come, help me!” His mother did not understand very 
well what misfortune had happened to Jean Paul nor 
what he was looking for; but the cries of the poor boy 
were so beseeching that she ran quickly up into the 
garret, took little Marie into her arms, and made the 
other three children go down before her. “Mother,” 
said Jean Paul in a whisper, “have the goodness to go 
down also with Marie, and I will tell you all in a 
moment.” Jean Paul looked so unhappy that his good 
mother complied with his request and took away with 
her little Marie, who kept calling out, “The little mice, 
more, more!” 

When Jean Paul was alone and all was quiet in the 
garret, he remained motionless, holding his breath that 
he might make less noise. But his eyes were not still, 
they looked everywhere. At last he saw appear between 
two old pieces of wood the point of a little white nose. 
He at first thought of running forward to catch it, but 
he said to himself, “It would not be a good plan, as it 


14 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

can run much faster than I.” Then he felt in his pocket 
for some crumbs of bread, and began to call to it as 
he did every day when he opened the trunk, “Mini! 
little one! come to your master. Mini! Mini!” The 
little creature did not move. Jean Paul continued pa¬ 
tiently to call it. At last it put its head outside of its 
hiding place, first one foot, then the other, came for¬ 
ward a few steps, and finally began to nibble the bread 
which Jean Paul held in his hand. 

He waited until the mouse was engrossed in eating, 
then adroitly caught hold of him, put him in the big 
trunk, placed a heavy piece of wood on top of the trunk 
and went down to his mother and sisters. 

He told them very quickly the whole history of his 
two little prisoners; where he had found them, and the 
trouble he had in bringing them home in his cap, and 
how he had passed many hours with them ever since 
they had been in the garret. 

He recounted to them how by degrees he had tamed 
them, that now they knew and obeyed him and ate 
from his hand. “Oh, yes! Oh, yes!” interrupted all the 
little girls, “they are so funny, so cunning, mother ; let 
us go back to the garret! Jean Paul is going to show 
them to us and we shall see them again. Come quickly!” 
And the little girls pulled their mother to the side of 
the ladder which led to the garret. 

“Mother, I have not told you all,” said Jean Paul. 
“Just now, when my sisters were up there, they fright¬ 
ened my little pupils so much that one of them ran away. 
I would never have been able to catch it again if you 
had not been so kind as to make my sisters go down 
stairs and leave me up there alone. I am sure that the 


Our Two Heroines Presented to the Reader 15 

poor creatures are still so frightened that they could 
do nothing well—I beg you, my dear mother, to wait 
until to-morrow.” 

His mother thought that Jean Paul was right. The 
great performance was to be put off until the next day. 
The little girls spoke of nothing but the white mice all 
the rest of the day, and it was their first thought when 
they awoke the next morning. “Little mousies!” said 
Marie, when she first opened her eyes. Jean Paul was 
already with his pupils, and he remained with them until 
breakfast time. When the meal was over he took off 
the tablecloth, wiped the table, placed the chairs all 
around it, and begged his mother and sisters to sit down, 
while he shut the door and windows carefully, and went 
up into his garret. The little girls stamped their feet 
with joy when they saw him come down with the two 
little animals. “Take care, Jean Paul; they are going 
to run away!” they all cried at once. Jean Paul had no 
fear of that; he had tied a string securely to one of the 
hind feet of each mouse, and held the end. The string 
was long enough to let them walk and jump. The per¬ 
formance succeeded admirably; Jean Paul’s pupils ate 
from his hand, jumped over the little stick, and con¬ 
cluded the performance as they did the night before, by 
pretending to be dead. The little girls were wild with 
joy and their mother was very much amused. 

“One might suppose they were ladies and that they 
had sense,” said little Angele. 

“Yes, but what a pity that they are not dressed like 
ladies!” answered Louisa. 

“Mamma works so nicely, she might make them 
dresses,” Caroline said. 


16 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Oh, yes! dresses for the little mice! and shawls! 
and little hats!” they all cried at once, throwing their 
arms around their mother’s neck. 

“Yes, yes, I should like to make them, my children; 
I will try, but it will not be easy,” answered their 
mother, freeing herself from all the little arms. 

The mice having shown all their accomplishments, 
Jean Paul took advantage of this tumult to carry them 
back again into their trunk; but he had hardly come 
down the ladder when his sisters surrounded him, cry¬ 
ing: 

“Jean Paul, run quick and bring down the little mice; 
mamma wants to take their measure; she is going to 
make dresses for them—hats, shawls, petticoats, every¬ 
thing! Mamma said so!” 

His mother nodded yes, in answer to Jean Paul’s 
inquiring look—for as the little girls all spoke at once, 
it was impossible to understand in any other manner. 
Jean Paul, delighted, ran lightly up the ladder and came 
down with his two little animals. Their mother meas¬ 
ured their length and breadth with narrow strips of 
paper. 

She measured also the length of their paws and the 
size of their neck, and so on. 

When the mice were put back in their prison the 
noise ceased by degrees. 

The mother then said, “Children, go immediately to 
your work, if you wish me to keep my promise of mak¬ 
ing garments for your brother’s little pupils this even¬ 
ing. Jean Paul, go and cut some grass for the rabbits, 
which you have neglected so much lately. Angele, take 
your knitting; Louise, sweep the house and put the 


Our Two Heroines Presented to the Reader 17 


dishes away; and you two little ones, amuse yourselves, 
but do not go far away from me.” While speaking, 
their mother began her work. They were not little 
doll’s clothes that she was making—no! she was mend¬ 
ing the coarse shirts and chemises of Jean Paul and 
his sisters. 

All the children obeyed their mother; the eldest began 
working, while the younger seated themselves upon the 
ground by her side. 

In the evening, when they were all in bed and asleep, 
their mother began to look at the measures she had 
taken in the morning. “What can I make these little 
dresses with ?” said she to herself. “I have nothing but 
old faded rags.” Suddenly she got up and opened the 
top drawer in an old sideboard; she just remembered 
a green satin bow that had been given to her before 
her marriage, when she had been godmother. The bow 
was wrapped up in paper and was still quite fresh, and 
the ribbon was wide. The good mother, consulting the 
little measures, set to work at cutting the stuff and 
then sewing it very neatly. Before her marriage she 
had lived in a city and had been a very good mantua- 
maker. There! the little petticoat is done, then the little 
bodice and the little narrow sleeves. 

But she is very tired and the light makes her eyes 
water. “Bah!” said she to herself, “I will have time 
to make the little hat this evening; there is still a little 
stuff left. The poor children will be so delighted to¬ 
morrow.” 

In spite of her fatigue, the good mother worked part 
of the night. When she left her worktable she held in 
her hand a pretty little dress of green satin, all puffed— 


18 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

and a darling little hat of the same stuff as the dress. 
She locked all these things carefully in the upper drawer 
of the sideboard and then she went to bed. 

How delighted the children were the next day, when 
their mother, without saying a word, took from the 
drawer of the sideboard the pretty little clothes! The 
little girls wanted to try them on the mice immediately, 
but their mother asked them to wait until the other little 
dress was made, and Jean Paul thought it was better 
to do so. 

“When they are both dressed we will play a complete 
comedy, I promise you,” said he. 

“Yes, but what shall we make the second dress with? 
I have neither ribbon nor silk,” his mother said. 

“There is still a little piece left of the pink calico, 
that my godfather gave me, that will be pretty enough,” 
said little Alice. 

“Especially alongside of this splendid green satin,” 
answered Louise. 

“At any rate,” said their mother, who held in her 
hand the piece of pink calico which she had taken from 
the drawer, “I have nothing else. This little square of 
white muslin is so small that it is useless to speak of it; 
so, if you will not have this calico, my children, the 
little mouse will have no other dress than the white one 
that the good God has given to her.” 

“Oh, mamma!” said Jean Paul, “I beg you to make 
the pink dress for her; you are so skilful, and besides, 
it will be very pretty.” 

The little children whispered to each other, and said 
the calico was very ugly; that it was a great pity; and 
often through the day they looked in every place they 


Our Tzvo Heroines Presented to the Reader 19 

could think of, hoping to find a piece of pretty silk; but 
they looked in vain. 

As she had done the night before, when the children 
had gone to bed, the mother began to work; as before, 
she worked part of the night; and as before, she put 
her work when it was finished in the drawer of the old 
sideboard, and went to bed very tired. 

Angele and her sisters were very much astonished 
on waking the next morning to find themselves alone 
in their room. Their mother had gone to wash on the 
banks of the river; but where was Jean Paul? The 
little children washed and dressed themselves, the big¬ 
gest helping the little ones; they said their prayers, and 
each of them took a piece of bread from the sideboard, 
all laughing and talking of the pretty mousies, as Marie 
called them. They had not finished their breakfast when 
their mother came in, and at the same time Jean Paul 
came down from the garret holding in his hand his two 
little pupils, which he put on the table. 

The largest was dressed in the magnificent dress of 
green satin, which fitted it extremely well; the petticoat 
was so long, and nicely puffed out, and when my lady 
the mouse stood up and walked, the train had a most 
graceful appearance. 

“Oh, how beautiful she is!” said all the children. 

“One would say that she was a noble lady, with her 
long train,” said Angele. 

“She looks like a noble lady,” replied the little Caro¬ 
line, although she could not have explained what a noble 
lady was, but she thought it was a very fine thing. 

“But, look,” said Louise, “how pretty the other is, 


20 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

with her short pink dress and her little peasant’s cap of 
muslin!” 

“How hard mother has worked!” said Jean Paul, 
looking affectionately at his mother. 

“And look at her pretty white apron!” said Angele. 

“She might pass for the maid of my lady Green 
Satin,” said Louisa. 

“My lady Green Satin, that is it! Let us call her 
my lady Green Satin. And let us call her maid Ro¬ 
sette,” said Angele. 

“Yes! yes! yes!” all cried at once, “my lady Green 
Satin and her maid Rosette.” 

And all the children clapped their hands while re¬ 
peating, “My lady Green Satin and her maid Rosette.” 

“My lady, you are wanted to begin the play, and you, 
also, Miss Rosette,” said the sweet voice of Angele. 
“Do not make us wait too long.” 

“The play! the play!” all the children cried while 
seating themselves around the table. 

Jean Paul very seriously commanded my lady mouse 
to begin by making a bow. My lady stood on her hind 
feet, made a very low bow, which Rosette returned very 
politely. 

Both mother and children roared out laughing, for 
the long, white, slender tail of Rosette was seen below 
her dress. Marie was taking her little knife from her 
pocket—“to tut it,” she said. Fortunately for Rosette, 
Jean Paul already had tucked it up and fastened it 
adroitly under her petticoat. 

“Silence!” said he, raising his voice. “Silence!” And 
everybody looked at little Rosette waiting on my lady 
Green Satin while she breakfasted. 


Our Two Heroines Presented to the Reader 21 

The obedient Rosette, standing all the time on her 
hind legs, came running to Jean Paul, and took from 
his hands a little waiter of paper on which there was a 
piece of bread and piece of sugar; then, still running, 
she carried it to her mistress, who with her front feet, 
took the bread and sugar very daintily and put them 
in her mouth, while Rosette stood up before her, holding 
the waiter. 

“Oh, how nice they are! how pretty it is I” began the 
little girls- 

“Silence!” said Jean Paul again, with a loud voice. 

“My lady has breakfasted and wishes to take a walk. 
Come, Rosette! put on your mistress’s boots, give her 
her hat, and take care that she does not muddy her new 
dress.” 

My lady seated herself upon a little wooden bench 
that Jean Paul had made expressly for her. Rosette 
knelt down in front of her. My lady held out her hind 
feet one after the other, and Rosette pretended to put 
on her boots. Then Rosette got up and took from Jean 
Paul’s hand the little green hat and presented it to her 
mistress. Then my lady put it on her head in such a 
funny manner that the children and their mother burst 
out laughing again. It was still worse when my lady 
began slowly and gracefully to walk around the table, 
while Rosette held up the green satin trail very re¬ 
spectfully. 

Then Jean Paul’s mother and sisters laughed so vio¬ 
lently that the two little frightened animals got down 
on their four feet, and would have escaped if their 
clothes had not prevented them from running. 

The fear of seeing the performance interrupted and 



22 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

a loud “Hush, there!” from Jean Paul quieted the 
laughers. 

“Now, my lady, you are tired with your walk—I 
beg you to lie down. Rosette, help your mistress, and 
take care of her; I am afraid she is going to be sick.” 
My lady, in the most graceful manner, laid herself 
down upon the ground. Rosette came near her, ar¬ 
ranged the folds of her dress, took hold of her paw, as 
if she was going to feel her pulse, and stroked her fore¬ 
head. My lady shut her eyes and let her head fall. 

“Rosette,” said Jean Paul very sadly and slowly, 
“you see that your poor mistress is dead. The best 
thing that you can do is to die, also.” 

At these words Rosette fell down alongside of her 
mistress, bent her head and shut her eyes. 

The little children had all stood up that they might 
see better—they scarcely breathed. Little Marie sobbed, 
as she believed the little creatures were dead. Caroline 
began to cry also. 

“How pale they are!” said she in a whisper to Louise. 
Their mother wanted to laugh, for certainly the white 
hair which covered the pointed noses of the mice had 
not changed color; but she tried to look serious that 
she might not disconcert her daughters. 

Then Jean Paul tapped his hands and began singing 
a country air, in which, by degrees, all the sisters joined. 
At the first sound my lady and Rosette jumped up, put 
their arms around each other, and began to waltz, then 
to jump very high, and to leap in the funniest manner, 
crying, (< He! he! He! he!” 

Marie clapped her hands and sang as loud as the 
others. Sometimes my lady and Rosette danced op- 


Our Two Heroines Presented to the Reader 23 

posite each other, sometimes they caught each other 
around the waist and turned wildly. 

“Hop!” Jean Paul said all at once, when the little 
creatures seemed most engaged in dancing; and sud¬ 
denly they nestled in their master’s hands as if they 
were in a little nest. 

Jean Paul’s sisters would have said “More,” as little 
Marie had done, but Jean Paul made each one of them 
put their fingers over the heart of the poor little crea¬ 
tures, and they felt it beat as if it would break. There 
was now no other amusement for the day excepting to 
see my lady and her little maid undress—and they 
seemed very glad to be relieved from their elegant 
clothes. 



Chapter III 

A great step is taken, about which my lady and Rosette 
are not consulted 

V ERY often during the following week his little 
sisters begged Jean Paul to show them again my 
lady and Rosette. Jean Paul was never tired of show¬ 
ing them, nor the children of looking at them. The 
neighbors, who had had a glimpse of them through the 
little window, asked permission to enter that they might 
admire them at their ease. By degrees the reputation 
of my lady and her maid extended; they were spoken 
of not only in Escaladios, but even in the neighboring 
village. 

But in the meantime the villagers were anxious, and 
looked sad. The summer was over; they were busy 
reaping the corn, and it was said everywhere that the 
24 





25 


A Great Step is Taken 

harvest was bad, that wheat was scarce, and that bread 
would be dear, very dear, all the winter. Jean Paul’s 
mother was paler and sadder than usual. She prayed 
a long time both morning and evening; she asked her¬ 
self how she would be able to feed all these dear beings 
who depended upon her. And she prayed to God to 
aid her. Jean Paul was always very active and hard 
working, but he could scarcely earn anything; all the 
dead wood seemed to be gathered before it fell from the 
trees; there was no more money to be gained by running 
errands for the farmers, for they would not spend their 
money; no more ears of corn to glean, the reapers had 
gathered them so carefully. 

Jean Paul tried to show his dear little animals with 
their pretty costumes in the neighboring villages; but 
my lady and Rosette displayed all their graces and 
pretty tricks in vain, and Jean Paul had very rarely any 
sous to take to his mother, for although the peasants 
seemed well pleased, they had nothing to give him. 

One day when Jean Paul was sitting at the door of 
their house, looking sadly before him without seeing 
anything, he heard the cracking of a whip and the 
noise of wheels. A carriage was coming slowly up the 
hill; it had already almost reached their house. The 
coachman had come down from his seat and was walk¬ 
ing alongside of his horses. Very few carriages passed 
this steep road. Jean Paul admired this one very much: 
it was an elegant open carriage; a young man was 
seated on the high seat in front; in the carriage was an 
enormous quantity of pink and white muslin. “Six 
handsome dresses, at least,” said Jean Paul to himself; 
but he saw the smiling faces of only two young ladies. 


26 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“My child,” said one of them to him, just as the 
carriage passed him, “does a woman of the name of 
Jane live here?” 

Jean Paul was so astonished, so wonder stricken, that 
he did not answer, and the carriage would have gone 
on if his mother, who was in the house and had heard 
the question, had not run out to say that this was Jane’s 
house and that she was Jane. 

It was not she that these fine ladies wished to see. 
They had just arrived at a neighboring chateau, where 
they found it very dull, and having heard their maids 
speaking of the famous Lady Green Satin and her maid, 
Rosette, they had made Jane’s poor house the object of 
their drive, and now asked to see the little wonders. 

As soon as these fine ladies had pronounced the name 
of his dear lady Green Satin, Jean Paul understood 
it all. 

While they were telling his mother the object of their 
visit, he ran up into the garret, dressed the little animals 
quickly, and came down, carrying them on the back of 
his hand. 

But how was he to show them the performance they 
wished to see? It was impossible to ask them to come 
into their poor kitchen and to seat themselves around 
the table where the mice ordinarily played. There were 
no chairs fit to hold such magnificent dresses! Jean 
Paul was for a moment in despair; fortunately he saw 
in the corner the board on which his mother ironed her 
clothes. His mother brought it to the carriage; the 
footman opened the door for Jean Paul, who was hold¬ 
ing his little animals still in his hand, and he seated 


A Great Step is Taken 


27 


himself on the high front seat by the side of the young 
man. It seemed to him at first that my lady and Rosette 
were, so to speak, drowned in the folds of these im¬ 
mense muslin skirts, which spread out on all sides; then 
he got up resolutely and remained standing. The iron¬ 
ing board was placed firmly on the knees of the young 
man and sustained by the strong hands of the footman; 
then the play commenced. 

The little animals were more active, more graceful, 
more intelligent than ever; the ladies laughed a great 
deal, and declared that my lady and Rosette were ‘'ador¬ 
able,” and that even in Paris they had never seen any¬ 
thing like it. 

"Do you know,” said one of them to the gentleman, 
"that at Paris this young fellow would make money by 
showing these little animals?” 

Then all three took out their purses; three pieces fell 
into the hand of Jean Paul; the ironing board was taken 
away, the little animals jumped into the arms of their 
master, the coachman mounted again to his place, the 
carriage turned around, went down the hill, and was 
soon out of sight. 

"Mother!” cried Jean Paul, "a twenty-sous piece, a 
forty-sous piece, and a gold ten-sous piece!” 

"You had better say a ten-franc piece, little simple¬ 
ton !” replied his mother. "Poor children!” added she, 
looking at them with tears in her eyes, "let us thank 
the good God Who has sent us enough to live upon for 
more than a week; we had nothing left!” 

"And did you hear, mother, what the lady said to 
the gentleman, that in Paris I would be able to make a 
great deal of money?” 


28 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Hush, Jean Paul; Paris is too far; never speak 
again of Paris.” 

Yes, Paris is very far from Escaladios, very far 
from those high mountains in the Pyrenees where Jane 
and her children lived. However, a fortnight after the 
visit of the ladies, when there was but one piece of 
money left, Jean Paul repeated: “In Paris, mother, in 
Paris I could earn enough for you and me to live on. 
In Paris I should get gold pieces and I would send 
them to you.” 

His mother sighed and did not answer. 

“There is M. Legras passing,” said Jean Paul, sud¬ 
denly jumping up quickly and running to the road. 

He soon joined the good farmer, who stopped a 
moment to listen to him. But Jean Paul had so many 
things to say that he begged M. Legras to go on. They 
descended the hill together. Jean Paul spoke all the 
time. M. Legras listened. When they reached the 
fountain they stopped; M. Legras embraced the child, 
looking at him steadily for some time, then said to him: 

“Very well, my boy, I will speak to your mother; 
you may expect me to-morrow.” 

“Thank you, Monsieur Legras. Thank you!” said 
Jean Paul, shaking the farmer’s hand with all his might. 
“To-morrow!” 

He ran up the hill and went into the house. His 
cheeks were burning, his eyes animated, but he spoke 
no more of Paris. He helped his mother to get ready 
the scanty supper for the family. 

His mother was quite alone the next day when, faith¬ 
ful to his promise, M. Legras entered the little house. 
Jean Paul was not very far off; he was returning from 


29 


A Great Step is Taken 

the fountain, loaded with his heavy pitcher of water. 
He saw M. Legras go up the hill, and hurrying, he 
arrived almost at the same time that he did. 

Jean Paul’s mother was delighted with the visit of 
this good man, who had so often helped them in their 
difficulties. As for him, he was quite embarrassed with 
the joy she showed and with her warm welcome. 

“Well! good mother,” said he to her as he sat down. 
“Do not be so glad to see me. Everybody is suffering 
here. Poor mother! this will be a hard year. Come! 
keep up your spirits! I have come to ask you to let 
Jean Paul go to Paris.” 

The mother ran to Jean Paul, who was standing by 
M. Legras, pressed him in her arms and covered him 
with kisses. It seemed as if she wished to say, “Who 
would dare to take him from my arms?” Jean Paul 
returned his mother’s kisses and wept with her. M. 
Legras turned away his head; he did not want it to be 
seen that he was weeping, also. 

“Hum! Hum!” said he suddenly, trying to speak 
gruffly, “you are not reasonable, my dear friend. Do 
you want your children to die of hunger this winter? 
Jean Paul is already a big boy; he is strong and cour¬ 
ageous ; he can gain his livelihood honestly by showing 
his little animals. Do you know that this winter all the 
boys of our village are going away to seek their for¬ 
tune? Callas’s son has already gone, as well as Cathe¬ 
rine’s two sons. Those who stay will be forced to beg 
their bread before the first snow, and nobody here will 
have anything to give them.” 

Jean Paul’s mother’s only answer was a groan. 

“Yes, you are a very good mother, I know it well. 


30 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

Alas! if the harvest had been good I would not have 
asked you to part with your son; I should have said to 
you, ‘My good friend, come twice a week to my farm; 
there will always be a loaf of bread there for you.’ But 
this year I have not enough wheat to feed my own 
family. I must buy it, and money is scarce.” 

“Monsieur Legras, you are very good! You have 
always been good to me and my children, that is the 
reason I suffer so much when you advise me to let 
Jean go away. I know that I ought to do as you tell 
me, and that I must be separated from my boy— 
but-” 

“No, no, my good friend, do not decide so quickly; 
take time for reflection—he is your child, after all.” 

He sighed deeply. 

“Listen to me,” he said, after a moment. “In a week 
I intend to go to Bagneres; it will be market day then, 
and I want to pay the rent of my farm. If you consent 
to let Jean Paul go, he can mount behind me on my 
horse; that will take him five leagues on his way.” 

“Thank you, Monsieur Legras; my resolution is 
taken,” she answered in a broken voice. “I feel that 
God asks this sacrifice. In a week Jean Paul shall 
start with you.” 

After M. Legras went, Jean Paul seated himself on 
his mother’s knee, and while caressing her, began to 
speak of the money which he would send her when he 
should get to Paris, and the delight of his little sisters, 
when they should have new dresses and as much white 
bread as they wanted. His mother did not seem to 
hear him. “A week,” she said suddenly, “only a week! 
Poor boy, I always hoped to be able to send you to 



31 


A Great Step is Taken 

school. All you know is how to pray to God—and if 
you were to forget Him! If you should be no longer 
able to say the Lord’s Prayer! I will not let you go 
until you learn to read that beautiful prayer.” 

She rose up quickly, opened the drawer of the old 
sideboard, took from it a little bag of brown merino, 
from which she drew a gold-edged book and kissed it 
reverently. 

“This is your father’s prayer book, my poor boy; 
your father was more learned than I—and—” Her 
tears were ready to flow, but she restrained them. 

“I will give you this book. You shall carry it with 
you; it will make you remember your father and your 
mother, but, above all, God Who is both your true 
Father and true Mother. But before letting you go, I 
want you at least to learn the Lord’s Prayer. Formerly, 
when I had not so much to do, I made you spell. Do 
you remember?” 

The good little Jean Paul had not forgotten. In a 
very few days, by pointing out the words with his 
finger, in his father’s book, he could read, “Our Father, 
Who art in heaven.” 

A week passed very quickly. His mother, however, 
passed part of her nights in mending the old clothes of 
her dear boy who was going to leave her so soon. The 
eve of his departure had arrived. His little sisters did 
not know that their brother was going to leave them. 
Their mother had not had courage enough to tell them 
of her trouble; but after supper, when both mother and 
children said their evening prayer together, the mother 
raised her voice and said, “Let us pray for all travellers, 
my beloved children; let us ask God to protect those 


32 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

who are going to take long journeys, and to bring them 
back safely to those who love them.” Their mother's 
voice trembled so much that all her little children were 
touched by it, and they raised their hearts to God in 
fervent prayer. 

They said “good-night” many times, and kissed each 
other very often that evening. The little ones went to 
bed, but Jean Paul sat up with his mother. She talked 
a long time in a sweet low voice to her dear boy, who 
was going to leave her. At the same time her skilful 
fingers were mending his clothes; at length she had put 
in the last stitch. With his mother's help Jean Paul 
dressed himself, then he knelt down before her and 
said, “Bless me, mother; in a few hours I shall start.” 

His mother laid her hands on her child’s head: “Oh, 
my God,” she said, “Thou alone canst really bless him! 
Bless my child! Thou knowest how my heart is filled 
with fear. I dread both accidents and sickness for him. 
God, keep them far from him! But I tremble also for 
him. O God, I fear both sin and evil; I pray, O Heav¬ 
enly Father, that Thou wilt keep his soul from all evil, 
as well as his body; keep him from temptation and bad 
example, from lying and from all vices, and that he 
may always love and obey Thee!” 

Jean Paul's mother drew him to her and held him a 
long time in her arms. “Go to bed,” said she; “my 
poor boy, you need rest; you will have very little; it is 
past midnight.” Jean Paul, without undressing, threw 
himself on his bed; he shut his eyes, which were swollen 
with weeping, and slept. His mother also went to bed, 
but not to sleep; however, when day began to break she 
felt more calm and not so tired. She had prayed to 


33 


A Great Step is Taken 

God for aid during the last hours of the night; she had 
told Him all that she suffered, and He had given her 
resignation and hope. 

Before it was quite light she heard in the distance 
the trotting of a horse. She got up and touched Jean 
Paul with her hand. He started, rubbed his eyes, 
jumped from his bed, and collected his little packages. 
First of all he took the big cage for the mice, well filled 
with bread and cheese, where my lady and Rosette 
lived; then the little box which held their dresses; after¬ 
ward a very white little board which he proudly called 
his theatre. Under his clothes, on his breast, he placed 
his precious book, which was fastened with a ribbon 
around his neck. 

M. Legras knocked gently at the door. Jean Paul 
kissed his little sisters quietly without awaking them, 
threw himself again in his mother’s arms, promising 
her upon his knees that he never would forget that the 
good God always saw him; then he opened the door 
and sprang lightly on the horse behind M. Legras. 

“May God bless you, dear little house that I love, 
and all those who live in it!” said he, sobbing. 

He was gone—his mother saw him no more, nor 
heard any longer even the heavy trot of the big horse. 
She stood at the door and prayed to God for him with 
all her heart. 



Chapter IV 
First performance 

T HE good horse trotted so hard that M. Legras 
and Jean Paul were well shaken, and he went so 
fast over the rough road that they arrived at Bagneres 
before eleven o’clock. 

Bagneres is a very pretty town, and therefore Jean 
Paul, after saying good-bye to M. Legras, stood gaping 
and admiring the fine churches and houses, as well as 
the handsome ladies, and splendid shops. 

But what is he thinking of? Did he leave home to 
amuse himself? Has he already forgotten his mother 
and sisters, whose bread he must gain by his work? 
And now our good Jean Paul did not waste any more 
time, but seated himself on the doorsteps, opened the 
trunk of his little mice and dressed them. 

“Halloa! my lady, do you like to travel? And do 
you like it, Rosette ? I give you notice that you are in 
34 

















First Performance 


35 


a very pretty town, where, as they say at our village, 
a great many fine ladies from Paris come to take the 
baths and to show their handsome dresses. I want you 
to do the same. He, He, He! we are going to dress 
ourselves.” 

Perhaps my lady and Rosette might have liked travel¬ 
ling if they could have walked or gone on horseback, 
but certainly they did not like travelling shut up in a 
cage, for they seemed very tired when Jean Paul looked 
at them through the bars. He took them out carefully 
one after the other, caressed them and kissed them, then 
put on their little dresses. 

A young lady standing at a window on the opposite 
side of the street was looking at his proceedings. She 
made a motion with her finger to another lady, who had 
just joined her. Both held their napkins in their hands 
as if they had been interrupted at their meal. 

“Do you recognize him?” said the first lady to the 
second. 

“Let me think,” said the latter; “where have I seen 
him? Oh! it is our little boy from Escaladios—and 
there are the famous mice.” 

“Little boy! little boy!” she cried out. 

Jean Paul raised his head. 

“How long since you left Escaladios?” 

“This morning, my kind ladies,” answered Jean Paul, 
who had just finished dressing the little creatures. 

While speaking, he came near the window where 
these ladies were. He saw a large room in which was 
an immense table covered with glasses and plates. They 
had just finished breakfast; many ladies and gentlemen 
were still at the table and only a few had left it. 


36 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Would you like to amuse yourself a few minutes?” 
said the lady who had just spoken to Jean Paul, ad¬ 
dressing herself to the people at the table. “If so, tell 
the waiter to bring in the boy who is at the window.” 

The order was given. In a few minutes the waiter 
came into the dining room, holding Jean Paul by the 
hand; he was quite disconcerted, and blushed a great 
deal when he was introduced among these fashionable 
people. The two ladies came to his aid. They cleared 
off a part of the table and told him to place his mice 
there. 

My lady and Rosette were tired with their journey, 
and felt the want of moving their little active limbs. 
So they were more lively and more frolicsome than 
usual. By degrees, all those who were in the dining 
room came near the end of the table, where the per¬ 
formance took place, some attracted by the little animal 
tricks and others by the mild and intelligent face of the 
little showman. When the show was over, and the 
little mice had mounted on Jean Paul’s shoulder, he 
took his red cap off and handed it to each one of the 
spectators. The sous and other money fell quickly 
into it; at every new offering, Jean Paul smiled and 
showed his white teeth. When he came before the lady 
who had made him come in, she held something between 
her thumb and second finger. “Before I give you any¬ 
thing,” said she, looking mischievously at him, “you 
must tell me why you have left Escaladios and that 
kind woman, your mother.” 

Jean Paul no longer laughed; at the name of his 
mother the tears blinded his eyes. 

“Oh, madam! there is no wheat this year in the moun- 



HE TOOK HIS RED CAP OFF AND HANDED IT TO EACH OF THE 

SPECTATORS 


37 

































































































First Performance 39 

tains, no bread for the poor—we must leave those we 
love.” 

The lady let her offering fall into Jean Paul’s cap. 

The child gave such a jump that all the money he 
had received rolled on the floor. 

“The ten-sous gold piece! it is the same!” said he, 
taking it between his fingers. “I knew it in a moment, 
and I recognized you, also, kind madam; you are the 
lady from the castle of Escaladios. But mother bought 
bread with this nice piece; how did it come back again 
into your purse ? It was the baker who gave it to you; 
I understand-” 

Everybody laughed—the lady opened her porte- 
monnaie. % 

“Look,” said she, laughing; “here are plenty like it; 
there is more than one gold piece in the world, my poor 
boy. But tell me what you are going to do with the 
one I have given you?” 

“Oh!” replied Jean Paul, “I am going to send it to 
my mother. My kind lady, if you are going to return 
to Escaladios to-day, will you take it to her, and tell 
her that the good God has already blessed Jean Paul?” 

The young lady explained to him in a few words that 
she was going to stay at Bagneres a week longer and 
then return to Paris. 

Jean Paul continued to pass his cap. When he pre¬ 
sented it to the last lady, “Look!” said she, throwing 
into his cap a little five-franc piece, “I want you to 
know by experience that there is more than one gold 
piece in the world, and that there are even very small 
pieces of it; and besides, I love children who work for 
their mother.” 



40 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

This was too much happiness for Jean Paul; he put 
his cap upon the table, took his mice in his hands, and 
began a lively mountain dance, singing lustily. The 
people in the dining room were amused to see such 
great joy. Suddenly the child stopped, staggered, and 
became frightfully pale; a gentleman ran towards 
him and took him in his arms as he was going to 
fall. 

“It is nothing,” said Jean Paul, in a weak voice; “it 
is joy, I am too happy.” 

“Too happy!” repeated the young physician who had 
held him in his arms, and who now made him sit down, 
while every one surrounded him. “Too happy! joy 
does not produce these effects. Tell me, my boy, what 
have you eaten this morning?” 

“Nothing at all. It is true, my kind mother put a 
piece of bread in my pocket: it is there yet, I could 
not eat it—I was too much troubled.” 

“But now that you are so happy, you will be able 
to eat your breakfast. Won’t you?” said the physician, 
smiling. “Put your money in your pocket, and come 
with me. I am going to take you to the kitchen; the 
servants are at breakfast, eat as much as you can; a 
physician prescribes it.” 

Jean Paul followed the prescription of the physician 
exactly, and was soon quite well. 

By this time it was one o’clock. Jean Paul walked 
along the dusty road by which he had entered Bagneres 
in the morning. The sun shone very hot, and his cheeks 
were like fire. Why did he remain here breathing the 
burning dust? He expected some one. 

He had scarcely left the hotel where he had had 


First Performance 


41 


such a good breakfast, when he began to think how 
he could send the money to his mother. All at once 
he thought, “If M. Legras has not yet gone!” Seized 
by a sudden inspiration, he ran to* the market place. 
But it was all in vain, M. Legras was not there. There 
was still another chance of meeting him; he could go 
and wait on the same road that they had passed over 
this morning. He waited one hour, two hours—the 
time seemed very long. M. Legras had doubtless gone 
before Jean Paul came there to wait for him. To 
amuse himself, he sat down, and began to count his 
money; it was very difficult—two pieces of gold, one 
smaller than the other, six ten-sous pieces, and nine 
big sous. 

“I will send them all to my mother,” said he to him¬ 
self ; “she will know how to count them.” 

He was turning his money over and over, rubbing 
it with his fingers to make it shine, when suddenly he 
heard the trotting of a horse, and at a little distance 
saw the honest face of M. Legras, in the midst of a 
cloud of dust. Jean Paul gave a cry of joy. M. 
Legras stopped his horse. 

“Ah! little fellow!” said he, “I see how it is. It 
was hardly worth while to start. You want to go 
back to your home already.” 

“No, sir,” answered the child, blushing, “I should 
like very much to see my mother again, but I am not 
going to ask you to take me back. I stopped you to 
beg you to take this money to my mother.” 

The good farmer leaned over his horse and took 
the money from Jean Paul. 

“How!” said he, counting the money. “More than 


42 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

nineteen francs already! How did this happen, my 
boy?” 

The good farmer looked suspiciously at Jean Paul. 

“Monsieur Legras,” said the child, with tears in his 
eyes, “tell mother that I gained the money honestly, 
by showing my little mice to travellers at the Hotel 
de France. Tell her also that Jean Paul would rather 
die than steal a two-sous piece.” 

“And what will you have left?” said M. Legras. 

“Nothing at all,” said Jean Paul simply. “I have 
had a good breakfast, I do not want anything.” 

While talking, M. Legras had put into his purse the 
money that Jean Paul had given him. 

“Well, my boy, your mother will have, to-morrow, 
every sou of the money you have made. Your old 
friend will give you this piece of money, that you may 
have something to eat while you are waiting to make 
more.” 

He slipped a piece of money into Jean Paul’s hand, 
and putting spurs to his horse, he was already far off. 


Chapter V 

“And lead us not into temptation.” 


T HE next day Jean Paul quitted Bagneres. He did 
not go by the diligence, nor by the steamboat. 
He did not go upon a horse or an ass. He took a 
carriage which cost nothing, and which was always 
ready: he started off on foot, with his light luggage 
upon his back, and in this manner he walked the two 
43 


































44 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

hundred leagues which separated Bagneres from our 
great Paris. 

We forgot that one evening when he was near Bor¬ 
deaux, he went six leagues in a fine carriage, and it 
happened thus: 

It had been two months since Jean Paul had quitted 
Bagneres; he had passed through a great many towns 
and villages; he had slept upon the straw in a great 
many barns, and had more than once slept under the 
trees when he could not reach a house before night. 
He had dressed and undressed his little white mice 
very often, he had taken great care of their pretty 
clothes, he had made them show all they knew—but he 
had only earned a few sous, which he was obliged to 
spend. He was very sad this November evening, when 
he was hurrying along the great highway. He hoped 
to make some money in the large town of Bordeaux, 
of which every one talked so much in his country. But 
he was still very far from it. If he wanted to reach 
there the next day, he would be obliged to walk all 
night, and he was already very tired. The road, how¬ 
ever, was easy and straight, and the carriages with 
their fast horses went like the wind. A light carriage 
drawn by k spirited horse passed by Jean Paul; there 
was but one man in it, and he half asleep. Jean Paul 
sighed on looking at the empty place, which he would 
have liked so much to occupy. The carriage had only 
gone a short distance when Jean Paul saw something 
fall from it into the dust. He hurried on and picked 
it up. It was a little child’s coat lined with fur. 

“Ho! ho! coachman! stop!” cried Jean Paul, run¬ 
ning as fast as he could after the carriage. 



“ho! ho! coachman! stop!” cried jean paul 


45 
















































“And Lead Us Not Into Temptation” 47 

But the carriage was so light, and the horse SO' swift, 
that the distance between it and Jean Paul increased 
rapidly. Jean Paul stopped quite out of breath; he 
thought he could not go another step; he wiped his 
forehead; he looked at the pretty garment: one would 
have thought it was made for him. The winter was 
near, the evenings were cold, and even at this moment, 
all wet as he was with perspiration, the wind seemed 
freezing. He put his arm in one of the sleeves, but 
as soon as he had done so, he drew it out violently. 

“Mon Dieu,” said he, “let me not yield to tempta¬ 
tion !” 

And he began to run as fast as he could. The car¬ 
riage seemed now like a little black spot upon the road. 

“Oh, oh! stop!” cried he, although no one could 
hear him. 

“Stop? whom do you want to stop?” said a young 
peasant on horseback, who was passing at the moment 
and stopped to speak to him. 

“No, it was not you to whom I called,” said Jean 
Paul, still running, “stop! it is the carriage yonder.” 

“Yonder? nearly at the turn of the road?” replied 
the young peasant. “Well, you are simple, my child, 
to think that your little legs can get up to it. It will 
be as much as I can do on horseback, and Brune goes 
very fast. Wait; you’ll see; I’ll stop it.” 

“Tell the coachman that he has lost-” said Jean 

Paul. 

But the young man did not listen; he put spurs to 
Brune, and started off with all his might. Jean Paul, 
although out of breath, continued to run; soon a turn 
in the road hid both the carriage and the horseman that 



48 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

followed it, but it was not for a very long time. In 
about a minute after, Jean Paul saw the carriage turn 
around and come towards him. The coachman was 
standing up in the carriage, looking in every part of 
the road for something. 

“Here it is! Here it is!” said Jean Paul, holding 
high the precious coat, so that the person who had 
lost it might know sooner where to find it. 

“Oh, what good luck!” said the coachman, “but 
where did you find it?” 

“Yonder on the road, near the pool,” said Jean Paul, 
still quite out of breath. 

“So far ofif as that?” asked the coachman. “Poor 
boy you have done me a great service. It is Master 
Oscar’s coat, Madame’s dear child. She made me go 
fifteen leagues to get it, fearing that her little boy would 
take cold without it. If I had come back without it, I 
don’t know what she would have done to me—Russian 
furs too! Thank you, my boy! how you have run, my 
poor child; how red you are, and wet with perspiration! 
Where are you going in this way, all alone?” 

“To Bordeaux,” answered Jean Paul, still out of 
breath. 

“To Bordeaux! I am going still farther,” replied 
the coachman. “I will be there this evening at eight 
o’clock. Jump up here my boy, alongside of me; 
that will rest you, and you can go much faster than 
bn foot.” 

Jean Paul had not to be told twice; he sprang lightly 
into the carriage. The kind coachman wrapped him 
up carefully in the beautiful fur coat, so that he did 
not feel the frosty night air. t 


49 


“And Lead Us Not Into Temptation” 

“Bah! that will not soil it,” he muttered in a low 
voice. “I should not like this nice boy to take cold on 
my account; he is worth two of that great idler, Master 
Oscar.” 

Jean Paul thanked him, but did not speak again; he 
slept soundly, and did not wake up until the carriage 
stopped to put him down in the large square at 
Bordeaux. 


Chapter VI 


Jean Paul is robbed, but still rich 

J EAN PAUL had now been at Bordeaux two weeks, 
and he did not think of leaving it. He was very 
happy; he had collected a little money; not that he 
had received any of those nice gold pieces that he liked 
so much, but he got a great many little and big sous, 
and he often asked the baker to change them for silver 
pieces. 

We find him now in the midst of a group of pretty 
workwomen of Bordeaux. The performance was over, 
and each one had given him her little offering. Jean 
Paul was going to undress my lady and her maid, and 
to take a walk on the fine wharves of Bordeaux, that 
he thought so pretty; he would see the large river 
which one might almost think was the sea, and then 
all the ships which came from the four quarters of the 
globe. 

While thinking of the river and the ships, Jean Paul 
was packing up his little theatre, and did not remark 
that a fat gentleman was coming very slowly towards 
him. He placed himself before the child, leaning on 
his gold-headed cane, and watched his movements with 
great interest. 

“Instead of undressing the mice, dress them, you 
ninny!” said some one in Jean Paul’s ear. “Do you not 
see that the gentleman is crazy to see them? Now 
make them perform, you will be well paid for it.” 

50 



51 


J 















































































































































































Jean Paul is Robbed, But Still Rich 53 

Jean Paul turned around to see who it was that spoke 
to him. It was a little ragamuffin of about fourteen 
or fifteen years of age, a stupid-looking fellow with red 
eyes and a pale and thin face. He was almost naked; 
through the holes in his shirt and trousers one could 
see his dirty skin; he had bare feet, and his hair fell 
in disorder on his forehead and neck. Jean Paul was 
horrified at his appearance. He followed his advice, 
however, and prepared quickly for another perform¬ 
ance. The old gentleman seemed more and more at¬ 
tentive; he did not take his eyes off my lady and 
Rosette, and laughed heartily at their pretty tricks. 
Jean Paul, who had seen them so often, looked now 
and then at the fat gentleman opposite to him. 

Bless me! what did Jean Paul see? Why did he 
stare so, and look so frightened? Why did he not 
occupy himself with the little mice? Rosette played 
badly, my lady made mistakes, the play was a failure. 
Jean Paul thought he saw a hand sliding under the 
vest of the old gentleman, and carrying off the big 
watch-chain and the watch hanging to it. It was the 
ragamuffin’s hand that he saw. “Oh!” cried Jean Paul, 
quite beside himself, “Help! Thieves! Sir, Sir!” 

At these cries the frightened mice jumped into their 
master’s arms; the old gentleman, who did not know 
what was the matter, turned like a tee-to-tum, the shop¬ 
keepers ran out of their shops, all the passers-by 
surrounded Jean Paul; everybody seemed bewildered 
except the ragged boy who, at Jean Paul’s first cry, 
threw himself roughly upon him, and said to him in 
a low voice, 

“Fool! you have made us fail in our attempt. Do 


54 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

you think I care for your ugly animals? I told you 
to show them to the rich old man, that while he was 
looking at them, I might rob him of his watch and 
money. Really, you are more stupid, a thousand times 
more so than your mice; you shall pay for it.” 

Jean Paul wanted to answer him, but the thief had 
already run far away. He glided into the crowd like 
an eel, and disappeared into a neighboring street. 

Meanwhile the tumult continued around Jean Paul. 
Everybody spoke at once, and nobody listened. The 
old gentleman with the gold-headed cane began to think 
it was time to return home; he put his hand in his 
watch fob; there was no longer a watch there; he felt 
and searched every where for it. Jean Paul, who had 
not yet recovered from his agitation, ran to him and 
told him all that had happened. The gentleman was 
very angry at being robbed, seized our friend by the 
collar, and said that it was his fault, and that he would 
put him in prison. Fortunately Jean Paul found a 
defender in a merchant, who had arrived at his first 
scream, and who had seen all; and who would have 
caught the thief also, if he had not been prevented 
by the great crowd. 

“Sir, you ought to be ashamed of yourself to want 
to punish this child; on the contrary, you ought to 
thank him. If he had not been so honest, you would 
not have a sou in your pocket.” 

“’Tis true! ’tis true!” they all cried, “he is a fine 
boy.” 

The women embraced him, the men clapped him on 
the shoulder, some slipped small pieces of money into 
his hand; but by degrees the crowd dispersed, and our 


Jean Paul is Robbed, But Still Rich 55 

friend was alone. His heart was beating violently, 
and his eyes were still filled with tears. “I will start 
from here this evening,” said he to himself. “I do 
not like Bordeaux.” 

He put his little luggage on his back, tied the money 
that had been given to him in his handkerchief. “So 
much more to add to my hoard!” said he to himself. 
“As soon as I have twenty francs I will send it to my 
mother!” 

He jumped about, he was again gay, he forgot the 
sad scene that he had just passed through. He went 
into a baker’s, then to a pork butcher’s shop. He must 
eat meat to-day, he wanted all his strength, as he was 
going to travel. He was in the middle of the long 
bridge of Cubjac, which crossed the Dordogne, and 
he was taking a farewell look at the wharves, the boats, 
and the river, when three persons approached him, for 
whom he was obliged to stand on one side to let them 
pass; there were two policemen, and between them Jean 
Paul recognized the young thief. 

“They are taking him to prison,” said Jean Paul. 
“What will his poor mother say!” 

The thief did not see him at first; he only recog¬ 
nized him the moment that he passed him. 

“Well, great ninny!” he cried as soon as he recog¬ 
nized him, “you have very little wit for your age. 
Well! tell me,” and he began to laugh with all his 
might; “where are all those nice ten-sous pieces that 
were in your pocket? look for them; they are all in 
my eye,” and he laughed still louder. “That will teach 
you, my boy, not to meddle with those who are more 
knowing than you.” 


56 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

Jean Paul had put his hand quickly in his pocket. 
The precious little bag of coarse linen, that held his 
money, was gone. He ran to the policemen and told 
them of his loss, and begged them to make the wicked 
boy give him his money, which he had had so much 
trouble to earn, and that he wanted to send to his 
mother. The policemen told him that when they had 
arrested the boy, they had searched, and found nothing 
on him. 

“Nothing in my hands! nothing in my pockets!” said 
the little rascal. “Ah! M. Ninny, when you began to 
scream so, and I threw myself on you, you did not feel 
my hand in your pocket. That was the way of it. I 
did it well, there is no use crying about it.” 

The policemen had great trouble to make him hush, 
and then went off with him. 

Our friend Jean Paul remained motionless; he could 
not believe his eyes. At last he threw himself upon the 
ground and burst out sobbing. 

“Oh, the wicked boy! what a bad heart he has! the 
rascal who has robbed me of my mother’s money! I 
am glad that he has been taken! I am glad that he will 
be put in prison! I hope he will remain there-” 

Jean Paul did not finish; he thought he saw the 
prison, a dark, cold, damp dungeon, still as death, no¬ 
body near the prisoner, he is alone; God who consoles 
the afflicted, will not console him, because he has done 
wrong. 

“Oh, I will not curse him,” said Jean Paul, “he is 
more unhappy than I am.” 

He stopped a moment and then began again: “And 


Jean Paul is Robbed, But Still Rich 57 

if I had helped him to-day to steal, I would have been 
arrested and taken to prison also/’ He shuddered. 

“It was my good mother who taught me not to do 
wrong. This unfortunate boy has perhaps never known 
a mother’s care. Oh God! I thank Thee for thy pro¬ 
tection this day! I forgive him from the bottom of 
my heart. Do Thou forgive him also; console him 
in his sad prison. Make him weep, make him repent 
of his faults, and then make him happy in being loved 
by Thee!” 

Jean Paul got up. His head was light again. Night 
was coming on. He sent a kiss to the stars, where he 
thought God’s throne was. Jean Paul always loved 
the good God. He leaped for joy, then he set out on 
his journey. 4 




Jean Paul buys a bed and sheets 

T HE way was long from Bordeaux to Paris. Jean 
Paul never liked to speak of this part of his 
journey; he said one day was so much like another, 
and he was sometimes so tired he could not bear to 
think of it. 

He arrived there at length. It was toward the end 
of the month of January. It was more than four 
months since he had left the dear little house in Esca- 
ladios. It was evening when he reached the great city; 
all the lamps and shops were lighted. There was a 
busy crowd going and coming as if it was in the middle 
of the day. He was elbowed and jostled every mo¬ 
ment. He stopped, his heart shrank within him. 

58 





59 


Jean Paul Buys a Bed and Sheets 

“In this immense crowd,” said he to himself, “no¬ 
body loves me, nobody cares for me. Oh, dear little 
house in the Pyrenees, when shall I see you again?” 

A porte-cochere was open near him; it was an old 
door of an old house. At the end of the yard pieces 
of stuff were hanging on a line to dry. It was a dyer's, 
as could be easily seen by two black streams, and a 
disagreeable smell. 

Jean Paul sheltered himself in the doorway, glad 
to be away from the crowd and the noise of the car¬ 
riages which stunned him. He leaned against a post, 
hid his head in his hands, and began to cry. He did 
not hear the door open behind him, but a strong smell 
of fried onions made him lift up his head. A little 
thin sallow man was looking at him. 

“What are you doing here,” said he roughly, “and 
what are you crying for?” 

“Mother,” muttered Jean Paul. 

“What is that you are mumbling?” said the little 
man. “Why don’t you answer?” and he shook him 
by the sleeve. “What are you doing here, and what 
are you crying for?” 

“I do not know.” 

“Well, here is a queer child, who is sobbing ready 
to break his heart, and he does not know why. Be off 
with you!” 

“I would rather remain here,” said Jean Paul. 

“No, I tell you that is impossible,” said the little 
man, who began to be impatient; “the carriages com¬ 
ing in the yard will crush you against the wall.” 

“Then you will not let me sleep here?” said Jean 
Paul. 


60 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Sleep here!” said the little man; “such weather as 
this, with this freezing wind which would cut you in 
two!” He shivered. “Are you crazy? you would be 
dead to-morrow morning. Off with you, with your 
nonsense! Go home quick!” 

“But I have no home, I do not know where to go,” 
stammered Jean Paul. 

“Ah! you do not know where to go ? you are a vaga¬ 
bond, a rascal. The policemen will take you, and put 
you in prison! Go away from here, you beggar!” 

“I am not a beggar,” said Jean Paul sadly, but with 
a certain pride, “I gain my livelihood honestly. Let 
me sleep in your doorway, my good sir; no harm will 
come to me. For more than two months I have passed 
the night-” 

“Well! you are going to take cold again in this porte- 
cochere, and in this horrid draught!” cried a big fat 
woman who came out of the lodge. “Let us see what 
it is? Make the boy come in, and talk to him in the 
room; but do not freeze yourself there.” 

“Make him come in, indeed! I want him to go 
away,” cried the little man. “Off with you, quick!” 

But the big woman had pushed both her husband and 
the child into the room, and had carefully shut the 
door; then she pointed her finger at the husband, to 
show him something that was cooking over the fire, 
and put a big wooden spoon in his hand. 

“Come, Monsieur Fumeron,” said she to him, “make 
yourself useful; keep the stew from burning; and do 
keep quiet, nobody can understand anything.” 

The little husband, grumbling, seated himself by the 
fire, and began stirring the stew. The big woman put 



Jean Paul Buys a Bed and Sheets 61 

her arms a-kimbo, fixed herself in front of Jean Paul, 
looked in his face, and began to question him. 

There was so much goodness in her fresh and chubby 
face that, in spite of her fierceness, Jean Paul told her 
all his story. When he had finished, the little husband 
jumped up quickly, threw the big spoon on the table, 
and said, “Well, since he has come all the way from 
the Pyrenees, and he has walked two hundred leagues, 
that shows his legs are good, and that he can leave here, 
and go somewhere else/’ 

“For shame, Monsieur Fumeron! you are getting 
very cruel,” said the fat woman. “Hold your tongue; 
you ought to be ashamed to speak so.” 

She took her husband by the arm, and led him to 
the corner of the room, where she talked to him in a 
low voice and with animation. M. Fumeron shook 
his head, and did not seem pleased. 

“Are you really a fool, Madame Fumeron?” cried 
he, stamping with his foot suddenly. “I tell you he 
is a beggar, a vagabond. Foh! you do not know what 
you are saying.” 

“But I do know what I am saying, and—well, we 
shall see.” 

She came back quickly to Jean Paul, and said to him 
in a hurried voice, 

“In Paris, my child, people are not allowed to sleep 
in the street. Every one must have a home and pay 
for it: that is what is called paying your rent. Have 
you any money?” Jean Paul said that he had. 

“Well, then, you can lodge in what is called a fur¬ 
nished room, a big chamber where ten or twenty un- 


62 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

fortunate people sleep pell-mell; it will cost you two 
or three sous a day; will you be able to pay that?” 

“Yes, I believe so,” said Jean Paul, in a low voice; 
he did not feel inclined to sleep pell-mell with twenty 
unfortunates. 

“Well, then, since you are so rich,” looking at her 
husband triumphantly, “I will not let you go to one of 
those places, where you will be likely to meet robbers 
and murderers. We have at the top of the house a 
little closet.” 

“But I tell you, wife, that closet is too small for 
a bed,” said M. Fumeron. 

“We are not speaking of a bed,” replied Mme. 
Fumeron—“the child is not big. A good bundle of 
straw will do, won’t it?” said she, looking at Jean 
Paul. “Hush then! Monsieur Fumeron, you are al¬ 
ways talking, you interrupt me always; one can hear 
nothing but your voice. You make me lose the thread 
of my discourse.” 

She began again. “A little room, which we will 
rent to you for two sous a day, and where you can 
come and sleep every night. Do you hear, Monsieur 
Fumeron? It is settled.” 

Jean Paul threw his arms around the fat woman. 

“How good you are! Thank you! thank you! Then 
I may sleep here, in this house?” 

“You must pay me a week in advance,” said M. 
Fumeron, who came near Jean Paul and held out 
his hand. 

Jean Paul was glad now to give him his big sous. 

“Monsiehr Fumeron, you are as greedy as a vulture, 
I am ashamed of you,” said Mme. Fumeron. “If you 


63 


Jean Paid Buys a Bed and Sheets 

choose you may pay your two sous for to-night, but 
not a farthing more. Do you hear ? and now sit down, 
and I will give you a plate of soup (that will teach you 
to be avaricious again, Monsieur Fumeron), a piece 
of bread and a little stew (that will teach you to be 
hard with little children, Monsieur Fumeron), and a 
drink of wine. I want my lodger to like me! O! now 
I have a lodger!” cried the fat woman, clapping her 
hands; “I drink your health, my boy, my lodger!” 
She poured out a little wine in Jean Paul’s glass, and 
took about as much herself, and they both clinked 
their glasses. “There,” she said to the child when he 
had done eating, “now I must shut the big gate; it is 
late.” 

She returned into the room shivering. “Oh, how 
cold it is this evening! Monsieur Fumeron, if any 
one rings you must pull the string. I positively forbid 
you to put your nose out of doors; you will have your 
cold again do you hear? Now follow me, my child.” 

She lighted a candle, crossed the yard, followed by 
Jean Paul, and they climbed a narrow staircase to¬ 
gether. Jean Paul followed her, followed her, until 
he began to ask himself if he was going to climb all 
night, when Mme. Fumeron turned into a long entry. 
They had now reached the sixth story above the main 
floor. 

Mme. Fumeron opened the door with a big key, and 
Jean Paul saw a little square room completely empty. 
The starry sky could be seen through a very small 
window. The walls were whitewashed, and pretty 
clean. Jean Paul, easily pleased, was enchanted with 
his new lodging. 


64 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Oh! but I was foolish to forget the bundle of 
straw we should have begun with that; it is too cold 
for you to sleep on the floor. There is plenty of straw 
in the shop opposite, but we must go down and up 
again,” said the fat woman, leaning against the wall, 
panting like an ox. “Oh, I can do no more.” 

Jean Paul did not mind either going down or com¬ 
ing up. When Mme. Fumeron explained to him where 
he could buy the straw, he put down his luggage and 
his dear little mice in his new room, then he ran along 
the corridor, and groped his way in the dark, down 
stairs. Very soon Mme. Fumeron heard him jumping 
up the steps four at a time. 

A few minutes afterwards, she heard the straw rub¬ 
bing against the walls of the narrow entry, and saw 
Jean Paul appear half hidden by his big bundle of 
straw. 

“Now, let us take away the candle. Take care not 
to set any thing on fire. I will tell you at once, that 
you must always go to bed without a light! Now go 
to bed, little fellow; see, you can cover yourself up 
in this nice fresh straw without undressing yourself. 
There, half for the bed and half for the cover, and 
you will sleep like a king.” 

It was true; the child, after thanking God for the 
new friend He had sent him, slept like a king—better 
than many kings. The poor often sleep better on 
straw than the rich on the softest down. 


Chapter VIII 


Good cabbages, and bad heart 

r I A HE next day our friend began his walks about 
the great city. In the faubourg Saint Marceau, 
where he lived, there were more poor than rich people, 
so Jean Paul, after having run over it all day, brought 
home but a small sum of money. On his return in the 
evening, he knocked timidly at the glass door of the 
good concierge. The honest woman opened the sliding 
glass; Jean Paul offered her the two-sous piece. 

"Oh, it’s my little lodger,” said she, laughing. "Come 
in, my boy, and warm yourself. Here is a piece of 
beef with turnips, which was left from our dinner; 
you will enjoy it.” 

Indeed, Jean Paul’s nice white teeth soon devoured 
it, although he thought that he heard M. Fumeron 
coughing behind the closely shut curtains, grumbling, 
and saying that he would like nothing better the next 
day than the beef warmed again. 

"Don’t mind, my little friend,” said the fat woman; 
"it’s only Monsieur Fumeron, whom I sent to bed early, 
he coughs so much; good night, my boy.” 

It was just the same the next day. Jean Paul was 
afraid to go far from the street where he lived, for 
fear of being lost in the streets, and he made very 
little money. On coming in at nightfall he knocked at 
65 


66 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

the door of the lodge. It was M. Fumeron this time, 
who beckoned for him to come in. There was a strong 
smell of cabbage in the room. The little man was 
washing and putting away the pots, and the things that 
had been used at dinner. He had a brown dish in his 
hand, upon which was some cabbage and a piece of 
pork, and he was going to put it away in the cupboard. 

Jean Paul came to him, and offered him his two 
sous. 

“Oh!” said the little man, turning roughly towards 
him. “Do you want to make fun of me? Do you 
think, little vagabond, that I want you to come here 
every evening, with your big sous in your hand, and 
eat all our provisions ? Ah, little beggar! you thought 
you would find Madame Fumeron here, and something 
good to eat; no, Madame is out, and it is Monsieur who 
is here to receive you, and he is master here.” He 
looked all around to be sure that his wife did not hear 
him. “Yes, I am master, and I forbid you to enter 
here. Do you hear?” While speaking, M. Fumeron 
pinched Jean Paul’s ear with one hand, while with the 
other he still held the savory dish. 

“But,” the child said trembling, “my rent? How 
can I pay my rent?” 

“Every month—no, every two weeks, you must 
bring me thirty sous when you come down in the morn¬ 
ing. Do you understand ? And now be off with you! 
I want neither to hear nor to see you any more!” 

He let go of Jean Paul’s ear, and put the plate of 
pork and cabbage on the shelf of the cupboard. Jean 
Paul did not want to be told twice to go away—he 
opened and shut the door of the lodge, crossed the 


67 


Good Cabbages and Bad Heart 

yard, ran up the staircase like a cat, and was soon in 
his room wrapped up in his bundle of straw. Our 
friend had counted a little upon the good supper of 
Mme. Fumeron, and went to bed with an empty stom¬ 
ach; he felt still more hungry as his appetite had been 
sharpened by the smell of the pork and cabbage. How¬ 
ever, after a while he slept soundly. 

Sleep soundly, Jean Paul, the good God loves you; 
for before you slept, you had promised yourself, if 
you ever should have a good dish of pork and cab¬ 
bage, you would give some of it to poor little hungry 
children. 

Jean Paul awoke early the next morning: his first 
thought was to run to the baker’s and buy a big piece 
of bread. 

“It is scarcely light,” said he, looking out of his 
little window. “Seven o’clock has just struck. Madame 
Fumeron will not get up for an hour yet, the doors 
will not be open, and the baker will not yet have taken 
down the shutters of his shop! I am so hungry, I 
cannot wait any longer,” and he put his hands on his 
empty stomach. “Bah!” said he suddenly, “I am not 
the first who has suffered from hunger; plenty of 
others beside me are suffering. If I were sure that 
my mother and sisters were not suffering, I think I 
could support my pain patiently. It has been so long 
since I sent them anything,” he went on. “Since I 
was robbed at Bordeaux I have just earned enough to 
live! I, who promised them money, and a great deal 
too! Mother, what do you think of your Jean Paul? 
Do you think he has forgotten you? Mother, I’ve 
done all that you told me to do. There, in its case, 


68 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

is my father's book, hanging from a nail. I take it 
with me every Sunday to church. I don't open it; I 
don’t need it, for I know the prayer you taught me; 
I have said it so often since I left you! No, I don’t 
open the dear book, but I kiss it while thinking of God, 
of my father who is with God, and of you, darling 
mother. Oh mother! I hope that you have not suf¬ 
fered from hunger since I left you, nor my dear little 
sisters. Oh mother, I want to see you so much again!” 

The tears came to the eyes of the poor child, he 
began to sob, when he heard a slight noise at his door. 
He listens—he is not mistaken—some one has turned 
the key. Jean Paul jumped up quickly, shook the stalks 
of straw off, which were sticking to his clothes, and 
called out, 

“Who is there? Come in,” said he. There was no 
answer. He opened the door; nobody was there, the 
entry was empty. 

“It’s the wind,” said he to himself. 

Just then it struck eight o’clock. Jean Paul ran 
rapidly down stairs, and in a moment was at the baker’s. 

In the evening he ran past the lodge, and did not 
appear to hear Mme. Fumeron who was calling him. 



Chapter IX 
Where Madeleine appears 

r P HE next morning Jean Paul had just got up and 
was stooping to give some crumbs of bread to 
my lady and Rosette, when he heard again a noise at 
his door, the key moving in the key-hole. 

“Come in,” cried Jean Paul, “come in!” 

He got up and ran to the door. Nobody was there. 
The entry was empty from one end to the other. 

The following day the same noise at the door, the 
same “Come in,” from Jean Paul, the same silence, 
and no one in the entry, when he went to the door. 
But that day, Jean Paul had seen the key turn in the 
lock, he was sure of it. “It’s not the wind,” he said: 
“I will see you to-morrow, no matter who it is; yes, 
I will see you!” 

So when he had just got up the next morning, he 
posted himself near the door. With one hand he held 
the latch, so that at the least noise he might open it. 
69 


70 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

He had stood there a quarter of an hour; there was 
no sound; all was quiet. Jean Paul began to feel 
tired, and he was just going, as he did every morning, 
to attend to his little household. “I will wait one 
moment longer here/’ he said to himself; for he thought 
he heard the door of the next chamber open, then light 
footsteps, and something brushing against the wall, 
then some one touched the key. He turned the latch 
quickly, and opened the door. Jean Paul received a 
hard knock upon his head, and screamed out. There 
was also another scream, and a little girl nearly fell 
upon him. 

“You hurt me,” said Jean Paul, rubbing his fore¬ 
head. 

“You hurt me, too,” said the little girl, who looked 
very red, was nearly crying, and at the same time rub¬ 
bing her forehead. 

“I didn’t know that you were leaning against the 
door, I didn’t wish to hurt you,” said our friend. “You 
nearly fell when I opened the door, and your head 
knocked against mine. It wasn’t my fault. But it 
doesn’t hurt me any more,” said the good little Jean 
Paul, smiling, “and you? Your forehead is still quite 
red!” 

“Oh, it’s better now,” said the little girl, smiling 
also. “But what made you open your door so quickly?” 

“If I had known that you were leaning against it, 
I would not have done so, you may be sure! But now 
I must tell you, that for two or three mornings lately, 
some one has stopped, and tried the door as if they 
wished to come in but as soon as I said: Who is 
there?-” 



Where Madeleine Appears 71 

“But,” interrupted the little girl, in a sweet voice, 
“I can assure you I did not want to come in. That 
was the reason that I was afraid and ran away, as 
soon as you said, 'Come in.’ To-day you did not say 
anything, so I-” she stopped and blushed. 

“Then it was you who came every morning to my 
door! But why did you do so, if you didn’t want to 
come in?” 

“I—I-” the little girl hesitated. 

Let us look at her while she is silent. She appeared 
to be about ten years old; she had a sweet and intelli¬ 
gent face; her large honest brown eyes showed that 
she was truthful; her round and rosy cheeks, that she 
was healthy; and her light hair so smoothly arranged 
on her forehead, that she had a good mother who loved 
and took great care of her. She was dressed in a very 
clean calico dress, with a black apron. 

“I—I-” she resumed, “was looking through the 

key-hole to see the little white mice. I’ll tell you all 
about it,” she added quickly. “My name is Madeleine 
Bienfait. My father and mother live in the room next 
to yours. I am an apprentice to a mantua-maker. Last 
Monday, my mistress sent me to buy some thread; in 
going along the streets, I saw your little mice playing. 
I stopped for two minutes only, fearing to be scolded. 
The same evening I saw you come in, and go up stairs 
before me, and now that I have found out that the 
little white mice are my neighbors, you see, I am dying 
to see them again.” 

“Why did you not say so, Mademoiselle Madeleine? 
It would have been so easy for me to have shown them 
to you. Well, you shall see them to-day—now. I 





72 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

am going to show you what I call a grand perform¬ 
ance;” and he began at once to get ready. 

“Madeleine! Madeleine! where are you? It is past 
eight o’clock, Madeleine!” some one called from the 
next room. 

“I am here, mother!” cried the little girl. “What 
is your name?” said she quickly to Jean Paul. 

“Jean Paul,” he answered. 

“Well, Jean Paul, you can show me the perform¬ 
ance to-morrow. Won’t you? I will come earlier 
than I did to-day, and we will not lose any time. Now 
I must go to my work; I am late already.” 

“Good-bye, Madeleine; remember—to-morrow.” 

“Good-bye, Jean Paul.” 

Jean Paul heard the door of the next room open, 
then he recognized Madeleine’s voice, as she spoke to 
her mother, and then he heard the sound of a kiss. 

Jean Paul sighed, for he remembered at that mo¬ 
ment his mother’s kisses. 

“Good-bye, Jean Paul,” said Madeleine again, as she 
passed with her basket on her arm, before the half¬ 
open door of our friend. 

“To-morrow, to-morrow!” said Jean Paul. 

It was not quite light the next morning when Made¬ 
leine knocked loudly at Jean Paul’s door. Our friend 
opened it with great care this time: all was ready for 
the promised play. The theatre was raised from the 
floor, and the little animals were dressed; as soon as 
Madeleine came in, the performance began. At first 
the little girl opened her eyes, and said nothing. Then 
she began to laugh so much, and so loud, that Jean 
Paul asked her what the neighbors would say. 


Where Madeleine Appears 73 

“Oh, it’s only mamma that can hear us,” said Made¬ 
leine ; “she knows that I am here, and it always pleases 
her very much when I am amused.” 

Just then, the children were interrupted by a little 
knock on the partition wall. A voice said, 

“Enough, Madeleine! It is eight o’clock; you must 
go to your work.” 

“What a pity!” said Madeleine; but she rose quickly. 

“Come again to-morrow, come every morning,” said 
Jean Paul to her as she left. 

“Oh yes, we enjoy ourselves so much!” said Made¬ 
leine. 



Chapter X 

The Chestnuts of the Luxembourg 

F OR many weeks the children met every morning 
to play with my lady and Rosette. Sometimes 
they did not pay much attention to the charming little 
animals: Jean Paul related his history to Madeleine; 
he spoke of his mother and sisters; Madeleine listened 
attentively, with her large brown eyes fixed upon him. 
At once she loved the house at Escaladios, his mother, 
and the dear little girls. Then he told the history of 
his long journey, of the thief at Bordeaux, and the 
good Mme. Fumeron. 

“How much have you made since you have been in 
Paris ?” Madeleine said one day to him. 

74 





The Chestnuts of the Luxembourg 75 

“Not much; some days eight sous. It is very sad 
—I can put nothing away for my mother.” 

Madeleine thought a moment. 

“If you were to go to the Tuileries, or to the Champs 
Elysees, or to some of those pleasant places where there 
are so many little children, I’m sure that you would 
make more.” 

“Yes, but how can I get there? I don’t know the 
way. I should lose myself in this big Paris.” 

“That is true,” said Madeleine thoughtfully. 

“Oh, I have thought of something!” cried she, sud¬ 
denly. “I go every day to a mantua-maker’s in the 
rue Bonaparte, to work; it is very near a handsome 
garden called the Luxembourg. Look,” said she, show¬ 
ing him the clear sky and bright sun through the nar¬ 
row window. “Look! it is going to be clear to-day, 
and it is not very cold. The Luxembourg will be full 
of children. You will make a heap of money there, 
as big as yourself. I can go with you to a great square, 
from which you will be able to see the big trees— 
No, I would rather take you to the garden gates, that’s 
more sure, and it will not delay me five minutes. Then 
this evening, when the keepers of the garden make 
every one leave it, you can wait on the pavement before 
the gate, and we can go home together. It must be 
so! it is settled!” said the little girl, clapping her hands. 
“Quick, quick! let’s dress the ladies. We’ve done 
nothing but talk this morning. Take Rosette, and I’ll 
dress my lady.” 

Ten minutes after, Jean Paul and his friend went 
out of the old house together, in fine spirits. 

Madeleine was not mistaken; the weather was de- 


76 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

lightful the whole day; it froze a little, but the sun 
shone pleasantly. The wide walk of the Luxembourg 
was filled with children of all ages, who ran, jumped, 
played, and were so happy this fine winter day. Nearly 
all of them stopped in front of our friend, forgetting 
their jumping ropes and hoops, to look at my lady and 
Rosette. It was in vain that their mothers and nurses 
called them; they were deaf. Those who answered the 
calls held out their hands and asked for some sous, 
and as soon as they had received them, they ran back 
and gave them to Jean Paul and the little mice. A 
little fellow three or four years old, dressed in velvet 
and furs, who, when he held his little dimpled hand 
to his nurse, received a hard slap from her, with “Let 
me alone sir, you trouble me,” returned resolutely to 
Jean Paul, and emptied out his little pocket on the 
stage: it contained a piece of bread, a stick of choco¬ 
late which his little teeth had already bitten, and some 
pebbles. The little fellow laughed, and then ran off 
as fast as his legs could carry him, and hid himself in 
the crowd of fair and dark heads. 

At length night came; the garden was shut. Jean 
Paul seated himself upon the pavement near the gate, 
and waited, as it was agreed, for Madeleine. He took 
a piece of brown bread from his cap and began to eat 
it. It had been a long time since the boy had eaten 
his lunch. The white mice were not forgotten; he 
gave them their share of the crumbs, and talked to 
them affectionately. His heart was filled with joy. 
His pocket felt very heavy, but he awaited the arrival 
of Madeleine, as he wanted her to have the pleasure 
of counting the money he had made. “How glad she 


77 


The Chestnuts of the Luxembourg 

will be!” he said to himself. Meanwhile it became 
very cold. Jean Paul got up, and walked along the 
pavement, stamping his feet upon the flagstones. Sud¬ 
denly he felt a little hand placed upon his shoulder; 
he turned around, it was Madeleine. He took her hand, 
and they crossed the street together. 

“Come/’ said he, “you shall see!” He stopped be¬ 
fore the little shop of a chestnut-seller, and by the light 
of the lantern, took his sous one by one from his 
pockets. 

“Count,” said he to Madeleine. 

Madeleine counted. 

“Forty-eight sous!” said she at last; “two francs 
and eight sous. A good day’s work! Sir, will you 
give us two silver pieces for this?” holding a handful 
of sous to the chestnut-seller. 

“Give the little girl two sous worth of very hot 
chestnuts too,” added Jean Paul, handing a double 
sous to the shopkeeper. 

“No,” said Madeleine to the man, “he must take 
care of his money.” 

“Yes,” said Jean Paul. 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

The seller began to laugh; but he arranged the mat¬ 
ter, by giving a handful of chestnuts to Madeleine, 
and giving the two sous back to Jean Paul. 

“How good people have been to us to-day!” said 
Jean Paul. “Dear little Madeleine, it is to you that I 
owe all this good fortune.” 

The two children went home even more gayly than 
they started in the morning. Jean Paul wanted Made- 


78 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

leine to eat all the chestnuts; he said he was not hungry. 
Madeleine seemed to consent, and shelled them care¬ 
fully; then she put them in Jean Paul’s mouth and 
nearly choked him; they laughed very much, and there 
was no end to their jokes. When they had finished 
eating the chestnuts, they spoke of the two twenty-sous 
pieces. 

“I want you to keep them for me, little Madeleine,” 
said Jean Paul. “When there are enough we will send 
them to my mother.” 

Madeleine promised to give them to her mother, who 
would lock them up carefully. 

The two children had now reached Jean Paul’s 
chamber door. 

“Adieu, adieu.” 

“Good night, and to-morrow.” 

Then they separated. 


Chapter XI 


Jean Paul acts as nurse 

/^NE morning, two days after, Madeleine went in 
to see Jean Paul. 

“You are crying,” said he, on seeing her swollen 
eyes and pale face. 

“Yes,” said Madeleine whose eyes were full of tears. 
“Yesterday the rheumatism came back in father's legs.” 

“What is rheumatism?” asked Jean Paul. 

“It is a frightful pain,” Madeleine answered, “which 
makes one suffer day and night, and which prevents 
one from moving.” 

“Oh, what a horrid sickness!” said Jean Paul. 

“The doctor came yesterday. He said that if papa 
remained at home as he did last year his rheumatism 
would last three months, for poor papa was very sick 
last year; but if he went to the hospital, he would be 
cured in two weeks. Then mamma and I both began 
to cry, and declared that we would not let papa leave 
us. But papa answered that he would go to the hos¬ 
pital, that he might be cured sooner; so last evening 
they took him away. Put your theatre away, Jean 
Paul; I cannot laugh, and can only think of poor papa.” 

“But he will be well taken care of, won’t he?” said 
Jean Paul, looking very unhappy. 

“O yes! the doctor said that he would have vapor 
79 


80 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

baths, and thirty-six remedies that we could not give 
him at home. But it is all the same; poor papa is suf¬ 
fering, and he is far away from mother, and his little 
Madeleine!” 

Just then Mme. Bienfait’s little clock struck eight. 
Madeleine heard it, wiped her eyes, kissed Jean Paul, 
and left his room. 

The next day was Sunday—a fete day. 

Madeleine stayed but a minute with Jean Paul, and 
would not play with the mice. She told Jean Paul that 
sick persons at the hospital could be seen only on Sun¬ 
day, and that she was going with her mother to see her 
father. 

“Oh! how glad I should be,” said Jean Paul, “if you 
were to find him cured!” 

“Cured! that is impossible,” said the gentle Made¬ 
leine; “if he only suffers a little less! I will tell you all 
about it to-morrow.” 

The Sunday before Lent, always a fete day, was a 
sad day for them. It froze so hard, that the water of 
the streams was as solid as marble. The sky was dark, 
and at about twelve o’clock, big flakes of snow began 
to fall so fast that the air was darkened by them. 

Jean Paul went to church, then came back to his little 
room, where he remained sadly all day. In such 
weather it was impossible to go out with my lady and 
Rosette. 

The next morning he awaited the arrival of his dear 
Madeleine with great impatience. It was daylight, and 
Madeleine had not yet come, and she did not come. He 
ran out of his room, and determined to knock very 
softly at Mme. Bienfait’s door. He knocked two or 


Jean Paul Acts as Nurse 


81 


three times; there was no answer, and the key was 
taken away. He ran quickly down stairs; Mme. 
Fumeron would doubtless be able to tell him where 
Madeleine was, and also to give him news of her father; 
he saw Madeleine in the porte-cochere talking to a 
young girl a little older than herself. Jean Paul came 
near them, but the girls were so busy that they did not 
notice him. “If you could have only stayed to-day with 
mamma!” said Madeleine. “Poor mamma! she took 
cold yesterday in returning from the hospital, and she 
is so delicate! To-day she is in bed with a burning 
fever, and her cough is very troublesome. I am afraid 
that she is going to be ill, so I did not wish to leave her 
this morning; but she got angry—she who is never 
angry!—I am sure it is the effect of the fever. She 
declares positively that I must go to my work to-day, 
that my mistress wanted me, that if I did not go to the 
workshop when there was a great deal of work they 
would send me away as soon as there was less, and that 
I should never learn my trade. She spoke so earnestly, 
that I did not dare to disobey her; and I pretended to 
start. But I cannot leave my dear mamma all alone, ill 
as she is. O, dear Marie, I beg you to stay with her 
to-day—only to-day!” said Madeleine, crying. 

“I tell you that it is impossible, dear Madeleine, quite 
impossible. In our shop we are overrun with work; 
we work every night. Just fancy! my mistress has 
seven dresses to finish for the princess Poupoutoff. 
They must be ready for the grand ball on Shrove 
Tuesday. The princess intends changing her costume 
seven times during the ball. What do you think of 
that? Formerly, you know each lady had one dress; 


82 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

but now it is necessary to have seven dresses at one 
time—and such dresses! There are pearls, ruffles, lace 
and feathers. There is no end to it. Are these ladies 
happy, do you think?” 

“Happy because they have many dresses! do you 
think so, Marie ? I have but two dresses, one for every 
day and one for Sunday, and I would gladly give away 
both of them, if papa and mamma were well; and if it 
would do any good, I would gladly wear my petticoat 
and short gown all the winter.” 

“What you say is true, Madeleine; their fine dresses 
do not make them happy,” answered Marie, thought¬ 
fully. “The other day I carried a skirt to the princess's 
house; they made me wait more than an hour in a sort 
of vestibule. On one side, I heard the prince and 
princess quarrelling; on the other, the children were 
fighting; and below, the housekeeper was scolding the 
servants.” 

“What do I care for this princess?” interrupted 
Madeleine. “Poor mamma! what is to be done? She 
is so agitated, I dare not go in again; seeing me would 
increase her fever. She would say to me again, as she 
did this morning, 'Go away to your work, go!’ I asked 
Madame Fumeron to stay with her a little while, but 
she cannot leave the lodge, because Monsieur Fumeron 
is sick with his catarrh. Oh! what shall I do?” 

“I will stay with her, Madeleine; only give me the 
key. The door is locked; I will take good care of her; 
I won’t let the fire go out; I will give her her warm 
drinks, and I will be very quiet. Do as your mother 
tells you, and go to your work, and do not be uneasy; 
she will be as well taken care of as if you were there.” 


Jean Paul Acts as Nurse 


83 


It was our friend Jean Paul who had approached 
Madeleine, and, while speaking to her, was wiping the 
tears from her eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Do not cry, do not cry,” said he. 

“Oh,” said Madeleine, after a moment’s silence; 
“you are very good, but I cannot let you stay all day 
with mamma. This is the Monday before Lent. The 
big ox will parade the streets. Everybody will be out. 
Look how bright the sky is! You will make a great 
deal of money to-day by showing your little animals. 
I cannot let you lose the whole day.” 

“Oh, Madeleine, it is not losing the day when I pass it 
in nursing your mother. Trust to me, and give me the 
key at once. When my sister Angela was sick, I stayed 
with her for hours, and my mother said that I took 
good care of her.” 

Madeleine at last took the key from her pocket, and 
gave it to Jean Paul, telling him again and again what 
he must do for the dear invalid. 

Jean Paul ran up the high staircase. When he 
reached the room, he was surprised to find that Made¬ 
leine, who, he thought, had left the house, was behind 
him. She looked at the dear sick one and blew a kiss 
to her, although her mother could not see it. Then she* 
nodded to Jean Paul and went off quietly. 

When she came back in the evening, quite out of 
breath from walking so fast, she found her mother 
asleep. Jean Paul told Madeleine that her mother had 
coughed a good deal during the day, and had often 
asked for a drink; she appeared astonished at first to 
see Jean Paul, but the few words that he spoke to her 
seemed to quiet her. 


84 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“What a good thing it was that I was here this freez¬ 
ing cold weather, that I could give her warm drinks! 

Madeleine thanked him, and they ate some provisions 
together that they found in the cupboard. 

“Thank you, my good Jean Paul; now go to bed; 
to-morrow we shall meet again. I am going to sit up 
to-night.” 

“Sit up, you! Madeleine! after having taken those 
two long walks! But you must not think of it. Why, 
your eyes are nearly shut already; no, go to your little 
bed and sleep soundly. I will stay by the fire to-night; 
I am not tired. I have not stirred all day. Do not 
be uneasy, but sleep well, Madeleine.” 

Just then Mme. Bienfait woke up, coughed, and 
asked for a drink. Jean Paul gave her a cup of herb 
tea, and Madeleine kissed her, and asked her how she 
felt. 

“Well, well, my child,” answered the poor woman, 
who soon became drowsy again. 

Madeleine rose early; she ran in quickly and insisted 
upon Jean Paul’s taking a few hours of sleep. He did 
not consent to it, until after she had promised to wake 
him at eight o’clock, when she would be about leaving. 

Madeleine hoped to be able to remain with her 
mother all day; but when the day broke she wakened, 
and said to Madeleine with feverish agitation: 

“What! have you not started yet! Why, my dear 
child, you must go to your work. I have promised it— 
you must go. When I make a promise, I keep it.” 

She turned herself in her bed, talked to herself, 
coughed, and refused to take another drink. Madeleine 
promised to set off at eight o’clock as usual. Her 


Jean Paul Acts as Nurse 85 

mother seemed to be dozing again, and Madeleine 
thought she would not leave her, but when eight o’clock 
struck Mme. Bienfait started. “Eight o’clock,” she 
cried; “you must go. Go, go,” repeated she, sitting up 
in her bed, “I never fail in my promises.” 

Madeleine forced her to lie down again, then with a 
very full heart, said good-bye, went out, and woke 
Jean Paul. 

“I am going to the doctor’s to beg him to come and 
see her,” she said to him when she left. “There is 
something left to eat in the cupboard. Poor Jean Paul, 
how good you are! It is a sad Shrove Tuesday that I 
am going to make you pass. If the doctor comes while 
I am away, you will listen and remember what he says, 
won’t you? You will find the herb tea ready made in 
the teapot, and there is still enough wood in the bottom 
of the closet. How cold it is!” said she, as she went 
away slowly. It was so hard for her to leave her dear 
mother. 

Jean Paul slipped very quietly into the sick chamber, 
and remained there faithfully all day. In the evening 
some one knocked at the door. It was the doctor; he 
examined Mme. Bienfait very attentively; then he told 
Jean Paul that her complaint was bronchitis, and that 
she required a great deal of care. 

“The fire must be kept up night and day, my boy, 
and do not let her uncover herself; even with a fire, it 
is cold in these garrets.” 

“And if I take very good care of her?” said Jean 
Paul, questioning the doctor with his eyes. 

“If you take very good care of her, my friend, she 
will be cured in a week.” 


86 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Oh! thank you, thank you, sir!” said Jean Paul, 
and he took the doctor’s hand and kissed it. 

The next day passed in the same way. Madeleine 
started off a little after eight o’clock, leaving Jean Paul 
to take care of her mother. 

Jean Paul was very much worried. He had burnt 
all the wood that he had found in the closet, as well as 
that which the wood dealer had brought. This cross 
man had grumbled so much when Madeleine, after 
searching her mother’s drawer and not finding any 
money, had told him that she would pay him soon, as 
soon as possible, that Jean Paul did not dare to tell his 
friend that there were but two more sticks! the poor 
boy took the tongs, looked amongst the ashes for the 
little pieces of coal, and put them all in a heap one upon 
another. He must keep those two precious sticks for 
the night. 

But He whom the winds and seas obey, came to Jean 
Paul’s aid. Suddenly the weather changed. The beau¬ 
tiful trees of ice that the frost had drawn upon the 
windows, began to disappear and run in little streams 
drop by drop on the floor. It was no longer freezing 
weather. The sky was dark, and a warm rain was 
falling. 

The invalid’s room was warm although the fire was 
almost out, and she seemed to enjoy this mild air. She 
did not cough and her breathing became more calm; 
her cheeks were no longer burning with fever, and she 
slept quietly. 

Jean Paul did not make the fire up again; he said to 
himself, “She is better already. The doctor said she 
would get well and she will be cured. Dear God! I 


Jean Paul Acts as Nurse 


87 


thank Thee. This fine weather is better than fire or 
herb tea.” 

Madeleine came back, so wet, so muddy, but so 
happy! 

“She is much better,” said Jean Paul, as soon as she 
opened the door. 

Madeleine did not answer; she knelt down by the 
bedside, and kissed her mother’s hand again and again. 
From her inmost heart, she also thanked God. 

“You do not know, Jean Paul,” she said in a low 
voice, “that I can stay at home all day to-morrow. I 
will take care of her to-morrow.” 

“How is that?” said Jean Paul. 

“When I reached the workroom this morning my 
eyes looked so red, that my mistress took notice of 
them; you see, Jean Paul, last evening, Shrove Tues¬ 
day, all those troublesome dresses of gauze, tulle and 
satin were taken home to the fine ladies; to-day very 
likely they are all faded, soiled and torn—but that is 
nothing to me—the important thing is that they are 
finished, and that my mistress had time to look at her 
workwomen. I looked so badly, that she asked me if 
I was ill. I could not help crying, and I told her that 
unfortunately it was not I who was ill, but my father 
and mother. She asked me why I had not remained 
at home and taken care of them. I told her all—and 
here is a little paper that she gave me, that mamma 
might know that I had permission to stay with her. 
And now let us have our supper, my good little Jean 
Paul; I have only bought some bread, because, you 


see- 



88 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Oh!” said Jean Paul, interrupting her, “bread is so 
good!” 

He would have liked the bread very much, and some¬ 
thing besides to eat with it; but he knew why Made¬ 
leine had not bought more, and he did not want to 
distress her. He asked her, however, if she knew 
where her mother had put his two francs. 

Madeleine did not know, and she begged him not to 
ask her mother. 

“Mamma would be too much worried, if she knew 
that we had not any money. Wait until she is stronger, 
before we tell her.” 


Chapter XII 


The little tickets 

TX/T ME. BIENFAIT passed a good night. It had 
■*■*-■* struck eleven o’clock in the morning, and Jean 
Paul had not come in to see his neighbor. Sud¬ 
denly, Madeleine heard a great noise of something 
falling in the entry. Mme. Bienfait, who was dozing, 
woke up, and asked what was the matter. Madeleine 
opened the door, and saw our friend Jean Paul lying 
on the floor under a heap of sticks of- wood, some of 
which were rolling along the entry. 

“Come and help me, Madeleine,” cried he. “Come 
and pick up this big stick of wood, which is going to 
fall down the staircase. Then the bread. Take care of 
the cheese !” 

“My lady and Rosette are not hurt, I hope?” 

“No, they are in my pocket.” 

“Let us know, Jean Paul; come in and tell us why 
you are loaded in this way like a donkey.” 

“First, then, as you did not want me, I have been 
out since early this morning with my ladies the mice, 
who began to be tired at being shut up so long. We 
have made a few sous. Then I went to the baker’s, 
and bought this big piece of bread that you see. I then 
saw a very nice little roll, and I asked the baker’s wife, 
who is a very pleasant woman, how much a little roll 
like that would cost. 'You mustn’t ask too much for it,’ 
I said to her; 'it is for a person sick in bed, and who 
has not eaten anything for four days; a little white 
89 


90 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

roll like that must be good, isn’t it ?’ In the shop there 
was a lady who had just done something with some 
little pieces of pasteboard that she was counting. 'My 
little man,’ said she to me, 'if your invalid has been ill 
four days, it is not bread that she wants, it is soup.’ 

'Oh yes, I know that,’ I said, ‘but soup is-’ I think 

I turned very red. 'It is very dear, isn’t it? And that 
is why you didn’t think of it.’ I made a motion that it 
was so. Then she felt in her pocket, and took out of 
it a small bundle of little cards of different colors. She 
chose a red one, and said to me, ‘Look here, they will 
give for this enough meat to make a little soup for 
your invalid.’ Then she added, ‘You must have fire 
to make soup.’ Then she gave me a little green ticket, 
and said, 'That is for the wood.’ Then she left without 
giving me time to thank her. I did not understand it 
at all. I turned my tickets over and over again in my 
hands, without knowing what to do with them. The 
baker’s wife had pity on me; she explained that I must 
go with my little green card to the wood dealer, and 
with my little red ticket to the butcher; that one would 
give me wood, the other meat. I have been to the wood 
dealer, and here is the wood. Hurrah! But I wanted 
to show you how funny these little tickets are, so I 
brought you the red one.” 

"Look!” said Madeleine; "there is writing on it.” 

Madeleine took it, and read slowly, "In the name of 
our Lord Jesus Christ (Oh that ought to be good if it 
comes from the sWeet Jesus). In the name of our 
Lord Jesus Christ. Good for two pounds of beef to 
be had of-, butcher,-street, &c.” 

"The signature I cannot read.” 





The Little Tickets 


91 


“It must be the name of the clergyman of our 
parish,” said Mme. Bienfait, in a weak voice. “That 
is what they call a meat ticket. I do believe a little 
soup would do me good, my child. Take the ticket, and 
go and get a piece of meat.” 

Jean Paul went out with Madeleine. As soon as 
they were in the entry, he said to her, 

“You know that I am going to stay with your mother 
to-day; I will bring the meat, and make the soup. 
Don’t be worried, I know how—my mother taught me 
how to make soup.” 

“But why can’t I stay, too?” said Madeleine. 

“Because it is Thursday,” said Jean Paul. “Did you 
not say that on Thursday the relatives of the sick 
people at the hospital could go and see them ? And your 
father, Madeleine!” 

“It is true,” said the poor child. “It is Thursday! 
And that I should forget it! I have been so unhappy 
all this week, that I did not know what day it was. My 
poor father would be most unhappy if I did not go to 
see him. O my good Jean Paul, I may say to him, that 
mamma is much better, almost well, mayn’t I?” 

“Certainly,” said our little friend. “When you re¬ 
turn, and after she has taken some of this good soup, 
we can help her up, and make her bed. You will see!” 

“Good-bye, and thank you, dear Jean Paul,” said 
Madeleine. “I will go as fast as possible, that I may 
come back sooner.” 

But she had not gone three steps before she returned 
to Jean Paul. 

“Poor little Jean Paul! you only think of us, my 
father and my mother, and you do not think of your- 


92 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

self. See what fine weather it is to-day! You will 
lose the whole afternoon in taking care of mamma.” 

Jean Paul interrupted her: 

“Ah well! is this the way you hurry? Go quickly, 
and let me go to the butcher’s; your mother is waiting 
for her soup.” 

Madeleine ran ofif as fast as she could, and he went 
to the butcher’s. 

When Madeleine came back, Mme. Bienfait was 
seated at the corner of the fire, in her old armchair, and 
with her feet on a footstool. Madeleine screamed with 
joy. 

“Father is up too!” she cried. She threw her arms 
around her mother, and kissed her again and again 
with great tenderness. “Dear father and mother are 
almost cured! Oh! I thank Thee dear God!” said she, 
getting up again, her face beaming with joy. Then 
she saw her little friend half hid under a big mattress 
which he was trying to turn over. 

“Well, idler that I am, in my joy I have let you make 
the bed alone. Wait, I’ll help you, and you shall see 
if I have any strength.” 

They were a long time making the bed, the children 
were so gay. They made up by their laughter for their 
many days of sadness. The mattress, the sheets, the 
covering, the pillows flew like balloons from one to the 
other. At last, in spite of all this, the bed was made, 
and well made too, as the invalid slept well in it. Be¬ 
fore she went to bed she insisted upon Madeleine and 
Jean Paul eating a little soup and meat. They would 
not touch the precious soup that the invalid needed; 
Jean Paul even regretted taking a little piece of beef. 


Chapter XIII 


Rain and tears 

r | A HE next day and the following ones, Jean Paul 
went out early and came home late. In the morn¬ 
ing before starting, and in the evening when he came 
back, he knocked at Mme. Bienfait’s door. 

“Are all well?” cried he. 


















94 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Yes!” answered Madeleine, “wait a minute; I will 
open the door.” 

“No! no!” said Jean Paul, “I am in too great a 
hurry.” 

“We never see him now,” said Mme. Bienfait, “the 
good little fellow who tended me so faithfully!” 

“He knows we do not need him now, and he is try¬ 
ing to earn a few sous,” the little girl answered. 

If Madeleine had followed our friend, she would 
have seen him stop very often, without doing anything, 
under the porte-cocheres where he sheltered himself 
when it rained, or when he was tired. She did not 
suspect that Jean Paul would not come in because he 
did not want to eat the breakfast or supper that Mme. 
Bienfait would be sure to offer him. He knew that 
the money drawer was empty, and that sickness had 
not made it any fuller. 

However, one morning, he went into his friend’s 
room. My lady and Rosette were on his shoulder in 
full dress; he came to ask the way to the Champs 
Elysees, which Madeleine had so often spoken of to 
him. He could earn nothing more in that neighbor¬ 
hood ; everybody had seen the little animals, and 
scarcely any one even looked at them now. 

“But,” said Madeleine, “do you know that it is very 
far off?” 

“For that reason I intend to start early, as you see,” 
answered Jean Paul. 

“Do you think we shall have fine weather? It has 
rained so hard these last few days,” she added. 

“Oh! there’s the sun!” said Jean Paul; “and if it 


Rain and Tears 95 

should rain, I will go under shelter and wait. Tell me 
at once, Madeleine.” 

“Well,” replied she, “you must go to the river; you 
know the way there?” 

Jean Paul nodded an affirmative. 

“When you reach the wharf, you must turn to the 
left, and then you must go alongside of the river, ever 
so far—and then, mamma?” 

“Afterwards,” said Mme. Bienfait, “you will see 
some large trees on the opposite side of the river; and 
then you will have to cross the bridge. Start off, my 
boy ; you will do better to ask your way there. Made¬ 
leine, is there not something to eat that you can give 
to the poor child, who is going so far?” 

“Thank you, thank you, my good lady,” said Jean 
Paul, shutting the door, and running off as fast as his 
legs could carry him. 

When he went out of the house he stopped a moment 
to think, and then started on the route that his little 
friend had pointed out to him. He reached the wharf 
very easily, and went slowly along the bank of the 
river. While walking along, he looked at the running 
water. He had heard, as all children have, that little 
streams make big rivers, and he asked himself, he who 
knew nothing of geography, if the torrents from his 
dear mountains and the clear stream where his mother 
washed his clothes, met here, and were running before 
him; and then his thoughts went back to the little house 
at Escaladios. 

He bore the walk very well, and fortunately, also, 
the way was straight. Hours passed on—all at once 
however our friend felt very tired. His thoughts came 


96 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

back to Paris. He was still on the wharf, and the river 
ran beneath him. Opposite to him, beyond the water, 
he saw a large number of leafless trees and there was 
a bridge lower down. That must be the one that 
Mme. Bienfait told him of— “I must be quiet near 
the Champs Elysees.” 

Just then a porter passed by him, and he asked him. 
Yes, that was the Champs Ely sees, a little way to the 
right, and then to the left. He only had to cross the 
bridge, and the Place de la Concorde, that great square 
full of statues. 

Jean Paul felt quite encouraged. He took a piece of 
bread from his pocket, and began to jump and sing 
while he was eating it, and now he has reached the 
bridge and is on it. It is pleasant to cross a bridge on 
a fine river that is always running. How fast the 
pieces of wood, and everything that is on it, go! The 
bridge itself is immovable. But what was this Jean 
Paul felt on his hand! He lifted his nose in the air, 
and down came two drops, ten drops, a hundred drops. 
It has begun to rain, and is raining very hard. 

“Quick! my ladies, go into my pocket!” said Jean 
Paul, “and let us run and find a shelter.” 

Indeed, he starts off as fast as his legs can carry 
him. The rain increases, he is blinded with it; but he 
runs straight on, avoiding the carriages which crossed 
each other in every direction. He thought he saw some 
houses near him on the right. But when he got there, 
and looked for a door, there was none. He went on and 
on, he passed the wall, and there was a great iron gate 
opening into a garden. Poor Jean Paul! It was the 
wall and the gate of the garden of the Tuileries. He 


Rain and Tears 


97 


was now wet to the skin, and water ran from his cap 
into his eyes, his hair was plastered on his face and 
neck. He hurried on still faster. At last there were 
houses and a real door, where a great many people were 
sheltering themselves. But the sky began to clear. The 
rain was over. Jean Paul brushed the hair from his 
eyes, and shook himself a little. Then all at once he 
thought of the mice. He put his hand quickly into his 
pocket, and took it away horrified. “They are wet! so 
wet, so wet!” said he. 

Then he went into the hospitable door; every one had 
left the shelter, and he seated himself on a little step, 
and took from his pocket—what? Two little animals 
with green noses, green feet, and green tails; both 
clothed in green rags all tumbled, and disgusting with 
green water. 

Jean Paul understood how it was; my lady’s dress 
had dyed Rosette’s apron, hat, nose, feet and tail, and 
as for his bread, which he had put in his pocket when 
the rain began, it was quite green. Jean Paul did not 
speak, or cry; he was completely overwhelmed, and 
he stood there without moving. 

Suddenly he heard the cry of “Clear the way there!” 
which made him start. It was a carriage that was driv¬ 
ing into the yard. Jean Paul jumped aside quickly 
that he might not be crushed, and he put his poor little 
mice, mechanically, in his waistcoat pocket. He left 
the house; he did not know where to go. Still, me¬ 
chanically he asked some one the way to the Champs 
Elysees. “The Champs Elysees,” he thought, “why 
should I go there? Who would give a pin now to see 
my lady and Rosette? My poor little mice, that I 


98 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

loved so much! It was you, my dear mother, who 
made their pretty clothes! You did not want me to 
start, you were right; I have nothing now by which I 
can gain my livelihood. What will become of me?” 

Our poor friend went back hardly knowing what he 
was doing. He again crossed the Place de la Con¬ 
corde and the bridge, and walked along the wharves 
slowly and sadly. He looked at nothing; neither saw, 
felt nor thought of anything. Soon the sun, which 
had shown itself, disappeared, and the rain came down 
hard and heavy. In a minute the wharves were de¬ 
serted—all the people ran to shelter themselves. Jean 
Paul alone went on his way without hurrying himself. 
He was indifferent to everything; he was so unhappy. 

The rain poured in torrents when he reached the old 
house. He passed slowly before the lodge and went 
up the narrow staircase, when he heard some one call 
him by name. He turned back and went into the yard 
again. M. Fumeron had half opened his lodge window. 

“Tell me, Jean Paul,” he said, “do you know that 
the water-carriers come before eleven o’clock in the 
morning and it is now four o’clock in the afternoon? 
I will make you pay a fine. Hi, hi, hi!” he laughed, 
“you are carrying at least a bucket of water in your 
trousers and as much in your vest. Hi, hi, hi! you will 
flood all the house! Hi, hi! it is not allowed.” 

He shut the window, and Jean Paul heard his silly 
wicked laugh, which continued until a violent fit of 
coughing put a stop to it. Our friend remained in the 
rain while listening to him; he made him no answer. 
He crossed the yard, and went up the staircase slowly 
and sadly. 


Rain and Tears 


99 


He arrived at last at his room, took out the key, shut 
the door, and threw himself full length on his bundle 
of straw. This did not please my ladies the mice, for 
they found themselves so smothered by the weight of 
Jean Paul’s body that they began to scratch with their 
eight feet, and to utter such piercing cries, that he put 
his hand in his bosom, took them both out at once, and 
put them on the ground, without looking at them. 
Then he crossed his arms over his head. What could 
he do, poor child? He wept, and wept violently. 

At nightfall, a light step was heard in the entry. It 
was Madeleine. She went into her mother’s room. A 
minute after, she knocked at Jean Paul’s door. There 
was no answer. 

“He has not come in yet, my good mother; you were 
mistaken,” she said with her sweet voice. 

“I am sure I heard him, however,” said Mme. 
Bienfait. 

It was ten o’clock; by degrees, all the lights in the 
house were put out. Madeleine opened her chamber 
door, and knocked again at Jean Paul’s door. She 
knocked loudly, and called him. Not a word in reply. 
Jean Paul did not move. “Oh, he can not have come 
in,” said she to her mother, “he must have lost his way 
in his long walk.” 

“Be calm, my child,” said Mme. Bienfait, “this poor 
little boy has already taken a great many long walks. 
Only think of it, he has walked alone all through 
France.” 

“That is true!” but nevertheless she sighed. 

Soon after, the light was put out in Mme. Bienfait’s 
room also. 


100 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

In the middle of the night Madeleine woke up sud¬ 
denly. A light was shining in her eyes. She started, 
and sat up in her bed. What was it she saw? Her 
mother, who had got up tottering, and was putting on 
her petticoat and slippers, had taken the candle and was 
about leaving the room. 

“Why did you get up, mamma, when you are so 
weak, and still cough so much?” cried Madeleine, who 
leaped from her bed, and ran to her mother to take her 
back again. 

“Go to bed at once, mother. What is the matter?” 

“It is true, I have not strength enough to stand up, 
my child,” said her mother, lying down again. “But 
we must see what ails the dear child.” 

“Why, who, mamma?” 

“Listen!” said her mother. “Listen!” Madeleine 
listened—she heard a deep groan. 

“What is that?” said she; “who is it that suffers 
so?” 

“It can only be our little friend. I was going to see 
what had happened to him, when you woke up.” 

“I’ll go, mamma, I’ll go,” said Madeleine, hastily 
putting on her dress and taking the light. 

“Jean Paul! my good little Jean Paul! What is the 
matter with you? Are you sick or hurt? Let me in, 
I beg you. I beseech you to open the door. You are 
there; I hear you; you are crying. It was mamma who 
sent me—she heard you groaning all night. I will not 
go away until I have seen you. I would rather pass 
the night at your door.” 

At last Madeleine heard the rustling of the straw; 
the key was turned in the lock, and the door was 


Rain and Tears 101 

opened. Jean Paul covered with his hand his eyes 
swollen by crying; he could not bear the light. 

“Oh, dear me!” said Madeleine, taking her friend’s 
arm, “how wet you are! you are as cold as ice; how 
you tremble! What has happened, Jean Paul? You 
are going to be ill, that is certain.” 

“That would be nothing,” said Jean Paul in a low 
voice, “but look, there is the great misfortune, look.” 

He pointed with his finger to a little shapeless heap 
in the' corner. Madeline stooped down, and held the 
candle near to see better. 

“Oh,” said she, “it is my lady and Rosette! What 
a misfortune!” 

She stood there overwhelmed. 

“Take care of the candle! Do not set fire to the 
straw!” cried Mme. Bienfait from her bed. 

“Oh, that is true! the fire!” said Madeleine. “I did 
not think of it.” 

She picked up the candle again, which she had put 
upon the floor; and taking hold of Jean Paul’s hand 
firmly, drew him by force into her mother’s room. 

“Look, mamma,” said she on coming in, “look at 
him, wet to the skin, and cold and trembling; and the 
worst of it is, that his mice are in the same plight.” 

She could not restrain her tears, and began to sob. 

“Let us see,” said Mme. Bienfait. “But try not to 
cry, dear little one.” 

She took Jean Paul by the hand. 

“First of all, we must warm him; light the fire, 
Madeleine; see how his teeth chatter. Put the coffee¬ 
pot upon the coals, that he may have something warm 
to drink. I do not want you to be ill, as I have been, 


102 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

my dear boy. But you must really change your clothes. 
Have you any other clothes than these, my little 
friend?” 

Jean Paul said, “No.” 

“Let me see,” she said, “how can we manage it? We 
must not leave these wet clothes on him. My husband’s 
are three times too big for him. Oh, I see now, get 
that little black wadded petticoat out of the wardrobe, 
and then give him one of your chemises, and your little 
blue saque. Now, my dear child, go into your room, 
take off your wet clothes; put these on; and above all, 
come back quickly. Take the candle—the fire gives us 
plenty of light; and do not go near the straw with it.” 

Jean Paul did as he was told. When he came back, 
dressed in Madeleine’s blue saque, and Mme. Bienfait’s 
black petticoat, which trailed on the ground, Madeleine, 
in spite of her sadness was seized with a fit of laugh¬ 
ing, and Mme. Bienfait would have joined in, if she 
had not seen Jean Paul’s sad face. 

“Come to the fire,” she said to him; “you feel better 
already, don’t you?” 

“No,” answered Jean Paul by a motion of his head. 

“What! no? Do you suffer more?” 

“Oh no, it is nothing,” he said at last; “but the poor 
little creatures!” 

“Go, bring them here, Jean Paul,” said Madeleine, 
“so that we may warm the unfortunate little things.” 

When Jean Paul came back holding in his hand 
something green which moved, Madeleine began to cry 
and lament. 

In the meantime Mme. Bienfait was examining my 
ladies the mice. 


Rain and Tears 


103 


“Why, they are not dead at all,” said she. “If these 
wet rags were taken off of them, they would be as 
lively as usual.” 

“I know very well that they are not dead,” said Jean 
Paul, “but it is the same as if they were, now that they 
have neither dresses nor hats, nor anything to be 
dressed with. Their white hair is even all spoiled.” 

“If you are only crying for their dresses, and the 
whiteness of their skin, it will be all right,” said Mme. 
Bienfait, laughing. “As for their dresses, I will make 
them.” 

“You, madame? Do you know how to work like 
mother?” said Jean Paul, holding his head up and be¬ 
ginning to smile. 

“Yes, yes, my friend, I have been sewing twenty-five 
years. I have made dresses for greater ladies than 
Lady Green Satin.” 

“And do you know how to make an apron, and a 
hat?” 

“An apron, a hat, two hats—all that you want.” 

“Oh! what—” 

Jean Paul did not finish, but again looked very sad. 

“But with those ugly green noses nothing will look 
well.” 

“Oh, it is very easy to change that,” said Madame 
Bienfait, laughing. “Madeleine, give me a little warm 
water and soap. Undress the mice, Jean Paul. Now 
rub their skin softly with soap; a drop of water. Rub 
well, that’s it! There they are whiter than ever! And 
now, my boy, come to the fire, warm yourself, and 
then go to bed.” 


104 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

Jean Paul was radiant with joy. He took a chair 
and seated himself in front of the fire, holding his dear 
little mice on his knees near it, to dry them better. 

'‘You seem as if you were trembling yet, Jean 
Paul,’' said Madeleine, “are you still cold, by this good 
fire?” 

“Oh, I am too happy to feel cold,” said our friend, 
whose teeth still chattered. “I am very warm, thank 
you!” 

“Give him some wine immediately, Madeleine; that 
will do him good.” 

“That is true,” said Madeleine, running towards the 
cupboard. “Here, Jean Paul, uncork this bottle, you 
are stronger than I am. Do not say no. Do not be so 
ceremonious. Mother insists upon your drinking it, 
and I also. Come! pull hard, pull hard! You seem 
to be astonished that we have good wine here, and fire, 
and wood, and bread!” (She opened the drawer and 
showed Jean Paul a five-franc piece and some change.) 
“You must know that to-day I went to see my father; 
he is much better. In a few days he will come back 
again.” (She jumped with joy.) “He asked me 
what money we had in the house, and when I told him 
we had none, he wrote a few lines with a pencil, and 
told me to carry it to his employer, who owed him 
money. His employer gave me ten francs. You must 
know,” said she, “that my father is a working lock¬ 
smith; he is more than a workman, he is the same as 
master—but is not quite master yet.” 

“Your father is foreman,” interrupted Mme. Bien- 
fait. “Now, Madeleine, stop chattering, this minute. 
Pour out some wine in the glass. And you, my little 


Rain and Tears 


105 


friend, drink it quickly. There, now you feel better. 
Oh! I am sure that you are hungry. Madeleine, give 
him what was left from our dinner—no ceremony, my 
boy. Come, eat, drink, and warm yourself. When 
you feel quite well, you had better go to bed.” 

Two o’clock struck. Madeleine and Jean Paul were 
so busy talking, that half an hour had passed before 
the idea came to them that night was the time for 
sleeping. Jean Paul was quite gay again; his cheeks 
had become rosy, and his hands warm and soft; as for 
my ladies the mice, they would have run all over the 
chamber, had not their master held them fast upon his 
knees. 

Mme. Bienfait saw all this at a glance; she put her 
hand upon the candlestick. 

“My children, I tell you now, that I am going to 
count ten, and then put out the candle. Go, Jean Paul, 
if you want to have light to open your door and, Made¬ 
leine, do you also go to bed.” 

“First, I beg of you, mother, to let me say some¬ 
thing very useful. My mistress has told me that I must 
begin to work again,” said she to Jean Paul. “I will 
go there again to-morrow very early. Since you can¬ 
not go out with your mice, will you pass the day with 
mamma? You can run her little errands, and cook 
for her; she is still so weak.” 

“Yes, yes,” answered Jean Paul. 

Then the obedient child leaned over Mme. Bienfait’s 
bed, and kissed her affectionately, and ran to his 
room. 

How well he slept, this good little boy! The long 
walk of the day before, his emotion, his grief, his joy, 


106 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

had fatigued him so much, that he did not open his 
eyes until nine o’clock in the morning. He hurried to 
go to Mme. Bienfait. It had been an hour since Made¬ 
leine had left, delighted, she said, to hear Jean Paul 
snoring still. 



Chapter XIV 

} Tis an ill wind that blows no one good 

' | v HE day passed, and Mme. Bienfait to the great 
astonishment and even to the great grief of Jean 
Paul, did not seem to remember the promise she had 
made him the evening before. She did not appear to 
know even that there lived in the world a Lady Green 
Satin and her maid Rosette. 

In the afternoon, Jean Paul asked permission to 
leave her for a moment, in order to feed his poor little 
animals, he said. 

He emphasized very much the words “poor little 
107 










108 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

animals;” and turned quite red, fearing that Mme. 
Bienfait might suspect his intention. But Mme, Bien- 
fait did not remark it. 

“Go, my child,” said she; “I do not need you now.” 

It was night; Jean Paul lighted the candle and seated 
himself at the fireside. 

Some one opened the door. It was Madeleine. 

“For you, Jean Paul,” she said, and she threw at 
his head a little bundle wrapped up in newspaper. 

The bundle fell on the ground; Madeleine ran and 
picked it up and threw it again to Jean Paul, saying to 
him: 

“No, it is not for you; it is for them.” 

Jean Paul caught hold of it this time. He brought 
it to the light, opened it. Oh, joy! In it there were 
beautiful pieces of silk, of gauze, and of velvet, ends of 
ribbon, black and white lace, and trimmings of gold 
and silver braid. 

Jean Paul understood it in a moment. He threw 
his arms around Mme. Bienfait’s neck. 

“And I thought you had forgotten them!” said he. 

“I saw that very plainly, my child, but I could not 
tell you; I had promised Madeleine that she should have 
the pleasure of surprising you.” 

“It was all arranged this morning,” said Madeleine. 

“How beautiful they are!” said Jean Paul, touching 
the pretty stuffs with the end of his finger; “what mag¬ 
nificent little dresses they will make!” 

“Indeed, they are very pretty,” said Madeleine quick¬ 
ly. “My mistress works for the most elegant ladies. 
Look, this blue velvet is a piece of the dress of the 
Duchess Batti. But what is that to us? The best of 


’Tis an III Wind that Blows No One Good 109 


all is, that my mistress has given me permission to stay 
at home to-morrow and work with you, mamma. I 
told her you had some work which must be finished; 
I did not tell a story, did I, mamma?” 

“Ask Jean Paul if he is in a hurry to see my lady 
dressed/’ answered Mme. Bienfait, laughing. 

“Oh! I am in a very great hurry,” said Jean Paul. 

“I was thinking to-day,” Madeleine said suddenly, 
“how you were able to bring my lady and Rosette from 
the Pyrenees to Paris without their being wet with the 
rain.” 

“They were often a little so in their cage, but their 
dresses were safe in a little box. They did not wear 
them excepting on Sundays and fine days.” 

“Then why don’t you carry the little box with you 
when you go out here?” said Madeleine. 

“Oh! in Paris there are porte-cocheres, so that when 
it rains I can get shelter,” replied Jean Paul. 

“Yes,” said Madeleine, “excepting on bridges and 
in squares.” 

Jean Paul said firmly, “When I go to the Champs 
Elysees again I will go by some other way, so that I 
will not have to cross the river.” 

Mme. Bienfait and Madeleine burst out laughing. 

“I wish you may find such a way!” said Madeleine. 
“The river divides Paris into two parts, my child,” said 
Mme. Bienfait. “If you want to go to the Tuileries or 
Champs Elysees, you will have to cross the bridge.” 

Jean Paul sighed deeply and did not answer. 

“An idea strikes me!” said Madeleine suddenly. 
“You shall be able to cross bridges, even when the rain 
pours in torrents, if you like, and not one drop of water 


110 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

can touch either my lady or Rosette—and their um¬ 
brella will not be heavy to carry, either. ,, 

She opened the lower drawer of the bureau and took 
out of it a large bundle of oiled silk. 

“You know, mamma,” said she, showing it to her 
mother, “this was given to my father for his rheuma¬ 
tism, but he could not use it. Let me make a little bag 
like those we saw at the hairdresser’s.” 

“A sponge bag?” asked Mme. Bienfait. 

“That’s it! Only this will be a mouse bag. I will 
make it rather large, with a good drawing-string on 
top. Jean Paul can carry it in his pocket. If a drop 
of rain falls, Jean Paul opens the bag, pops my lady 
and Rosette at once into it, and that without rumpling 
their dresses. Then he draws the string, passes the 
cords over his arm, and walks on as if his handker¬ 
chief and purse were in the bag!” 

“Hurrah! good luck!” said Jean Paul, jumping with 
joy. 

Madeleine did the same; and it was at least five 
minutes before Mme. Bienfait could make herself 
heard. 

“It is not a bad idea, little one,” said she, “only if 
Jean Paul draws the strings of his bag too tight, he 
will find my lady and Rosette suffocated when he wants 
to take them out.” 

“I shall find them suf— what, madam, please ?” said 
Jean Paul, with open mouth. 

“Suffocated, my child; that is to say, dead for want 
of air to breathe. No man, no animal, no matter how 
small it may be, can live without air. But don’t be 
uneasy; I will take care that Madeleine makes little 


’Tis an III Wind that Blows No One Good 111 

windows at the top of the bag, so the dear little crea¬ 
tures will not be in any danger.” 

“Mamma, will you let me make the little bag this 
evening? It will amuse me so much! You do not like 
me to sit up, I know; but I assure you I am not at all 
tired to-day.” 

Mme. Bienfait consented. Madeleine took her meas¬ 
ures, cut, shaped, clipped, and finished the bag that 
evening, with its drawing-string and its little windows. 

As soon as the beds were made the next day, the 
floor swept, and the furniture carefully dusted, Made¬ 
leine and her mother began to work. 

It was two o’clock; the sun shone through the win¬ 
dow, and, falling upon the worktable, made the little 
pieces of silk and velvet that covered it look quite 
brilliant. Madeleine held in her hand a little skirt of 
red moire silk, and Mme. Bienfait has something so 
very small in hers that it must be a hat. 

“Mamma,” said Madeleine, standing the skirt on the 
table, and turning it on all sides in order to admire it 
the more, “are you sure that the table will be large 
enough?” 

“What table?” asked Mme. Bienfait, putting down 
her work also, and leaning her tired back against the 
chair. 

“This, I mean,” said the child, giving a little knock 
of her hand on the worktable. 

“Big enough for what? Explain yourself, my 
dear.” 

“Why, mamma, our Sunday dinner. You know that 
father is coming home on Saturday, and that on Sun¬ 
day we are to have a tablecloth and are going to give 


112 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

a grand dinner to dear father and to Jean Paul. There 
must be a jubilee now that both my dear parents are 
cured. Jean Paul and my father must become ac¬ 
quainted also, dear mamma, mustn’t they?” 

“Poor Jean Paul!” sighed Mme. Bienfait. 

“Why do you pity him, mamma? Is he so much 
poorer than we are? He is well, he is gay.” 

“It is true that we are poor, my dear,” interrupted 
Mme. Bienfait, “almost as poor as he; yet I am sure 
your father would not like to sit down beside him at 
table.” 

“You think so, mamma! is it possible? And father 
is so good!” 

“But our poor Jean Paul is so dirty! Have you 
not noticed, Madeleine, his yellow face, his hair like 
brushwood, his black hands, and his soiled shirt?” 

“I tried not to see all that,” said Madeleine, timidly. 

“Yes, but your father will see it at once. You know 
how fond he is of cleanliness, and with what care every 
morning and evening, and indeed many times a day, 
he washes his face and hands and combs his hair.” 

“O mamma, Jean Paul is so poor! It is not his 
fault that he is so dirty.” 

“You are wrong, my dear; it is not necessary to 
have money to be clean: it is courage that is wanted. 
In winter there are rich people who, in their warm 
rooms, are too cowardly to put a drop of water on 
their skin.” 

“That is true,” interrupted Madeleine. “My mis¬ 
tress told us the other day of a lady who came to try 
on a splendid velvet dress, and whose neck and arms 
were quite soiled.” 


*Tis an III Wind that Blows No One Good 113 


“You see, then, my dear, that it only requires courage 
to wash oneself.” 

Madeleine thought a moment. 

“Now, for once, it is I who am right, mamma!” 
pried she. “Jean Paul has but one shirt—he told me so. 
How can he change it, then?” 

“If he were very courageous and very cleanly,” said 
Mme. Bienfait, laughing, “he would have done as others 
have done; he might have gone without a shirt, and 
taken his to the washhouse, and put it on again when 
it was dry.” She added, sighing, “What! this unfor¬ 
tunate child has but one shirt! But now I think of it, 
I have an old shirt of your father’s—I can cut it up, 
take away the wornout part, and it will make an excel¬ 
lent one for our friend. I will let you finish the dresses 
for the mice, my dear; besides, my poor eyes are tired 
and I shall do better on coarser work.” 

“I shall be very much pleased to see him in a white 
shirt,” said Madeleine, while her mother cut the coarse 
linen. 

“I am afraid his face and hands will only appear 
more dirty,” answered Mme. Bienfait. 

“Oh!” said Madeleine, laughing, “he took a rain-bath 
yesterday, at the same time that his mice did. That’s 
something gained. Tt’s an ill wind that blows no one 
good.’ ” Then she added more seriously, “What is to 
be done to teach him to be cleanly ? I dare not tell him 
that my father—well, yes, I will do it. Poor Jean Paul! 

-Mamma,” said she after a moment’s silence, “is it 

very wicked to be dirty?” 

“Ask your conscience, dear little one. It will tell 
you that dirtiness is not a vice, like lying or anger, but 



114 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

that at the same time it cannot be pleasing to God, since 
it makes us disagreeable to those about us. And then 
uncleanliness is the daughter of idleness, and cleanliness 
is said to be next to godliness/' 

Just then some one knocked at the door, and Jean 
Paul’s voice asked, 

"May I come in, good Madame Bienfait?” 

Madeleine’s mother put her finger to her lips and 
said, in a low voice, 

"Do not speak of it now.” 

Madeleine made a gesture of obedience. 

"I have but a stitch more to do,” cried she to Jean 
Paul. 

Since the morning the workers had not allowed Jean 
Paul to come into the room. Madeleine wanted to have 
the costumes completely finished before Jean Paul saw 
them. 

She at last broke off the silken thread with which she 
was sewing, cleared the table of the scraps, and care¬ 
fully placed there, first the superb dress, with a train of 
cherry-colored moire antique, then the little saque of 
the same, and a hat of black velvet trimmed with gold. 

"That is for my lady 1” said she. 

A little further off, she put delicately upon the table 
a skirt of blue taffeta, turned up over a little petticoat 
striped with gold and blue, a little body of black velvet, 
and a darling little lace hat trimmed with blue ribbon. 
And this was for Rosette! 

"Now you can come in, Monsieur Jean Paul,” said 
she. 

"Well!” said she, as soon as he had opened the door, 
"have your seamstresses worked well?” 


’Tis an III Wind that Blows No One Good 115 


“Oh!—ah!—oh!—ah!” cried Jean Paul, wonder- 

stricken with what he saw on the table. “Oh!!”- 

he wished to speak, but joy and admiration hindered 
the words from coming. 

“If we light the lamp, mamma! It is dusk now, he 
can’t see the things well.” 

“Oh! yes I can, my good Madeleine! How beautiful 
they are! How good you are, Madame Bienfait! And 
this skirt is so rich that it stands alone! Oh! there, 
there! I would like to be a mouse to wear these beau¬ 
tiful dresses! Oh! and this little hat! and this little 
saque, with these long strings hanging from the back!” 

“Those strings are called, 'Follow me, young man,’ ” 
said Madeleine, “the last fashion!” 

“This will bring them good luck. I am very sure 
that they will be so handsome, both old and young 
will follow them.” 

“Go, bring the little creatures,” said Madeleine; “I 
want to try their dresses on. I hope these ladies will 
be pleased with their mantua-makers,” said she, mak¬ 
ing a little curtsey and throwing down her eyes. 

Jean Paul went away backwards, not to lose sight 
of the things that were on the table, and continued his 
“ah’s” and “oh’s.” He was speechless with delight. 

“You will die with joy when I tell you that I have 
not used half of my scraps, and mamma and I want to 
make two more costumes for your mice.” 

Jean Paul remained motionless, as if petrified with 
pleasure. 

“Go and get them,” repeated Madeleine after a mo¬ 
ment, bursting out laughing and pushing him towards 
the door. “I thought that you were gone.” 


116 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Oh! mamma, how happy it makes one to give so 
much joy to another !” said Madeleine, leaning towards 
her mother to kiss her. “It seems to me it will be like 
this in heaven, and we shall be happy in seeing those 
happy who surround us.” 

Mme. Bienfait put down her work and pressed her 
daughter in her arms. 

Jean Paul returned, bringing the mice. My good 
lady was a little sleepy and did not seem inclined to be 
dressed, nor Rosette, either. However, they allowed 
themselves to be dressed and admired with a very good 
grace. Jean Paul, in order to show his gratitude to 
Madeleine, wanted to have a performance; but these 
ladies, a little frightened by the light of the lamp, and 
not quite at ease in their new dresses, would not stand 
up, but fell down on their four feet just as common 
mice. Jean Paul scolded, and Madeleine laughed with 
all her heart. 

“You were right to thank us yourself, my dear boy,” 
said Mme. Bienfait, “for I think that if the mice knew 
how to speak, they would not thank us at all. They 
were enchanted, I know, to have no other clothing 
than their white fur for the last few days.” 

“They must not learn bad habits,” said Jean Paul 
seriously. 

Our good little friend did not allow himself to be 
discouraged. By scolding and caressing them by turns, 
by scolding them again, and sundry little taps on the 
back, he succeeded at last in making them play and 
showing all their pretty little tricks. 

Mme. Bienfait, Madeleine and Jean Paul all three 
declared that the new dresses were still finer than the 


’Tis an III Wind that Blows No One Good 117 

old ones. After the performance they were carefully 
taken off and folded up. 

Madeleine wanted to change the names of these in¬ 
teresting little animals, and call them Lady Red Moire 



and Bluette. But after a long discussion it was decided 
they should keep the famous names of Lady Green Satin 
and Rosette, “already well known through the world,” 
said Jean Paul. 

They embraced each other very affectionately. Jean 
Paul thanked them again and then went to his room. 
In his prayer that night he returned thanks to God for 
having given him such good friends and asked Him 
to bless them. 










Chapter XV 


A cat! 

T T was four o'clock in the morning; it was dark, very 
dark. Everybody was asleep. Jean Paul opened 
his eyes—he had heard a noise. He was still sleepy 
and he fell asleep. 

He woke again. Some one, or something, was mov¬ 
ing the straw on which he slept. It made a great noise 
in the deep silence of the night. 

And then something heavy fell upon him, which with 
a bound, jumped, and fell on the floor. Jean Paul 
raised his head from the straw, then he sat up, he lis¬ 
tened, his heart beat. There was something in the 
room, which came and went, which ran and stopped, 
and jumped. Jean Paul had just seen two big eyes, 
shining like coals. They are not the little eyes of my 
lady and Rosette. 

“Horrible!” cried he. “It is the cat!” He raised 
himself suddenly, and threw himself upon the animal. 
He caught it easily; his chamber was so small. He car¬ 
ried it in his arms, half opened the door, put it outside, 
and shut it quickly. 

“It is Madame Fumeron’s cat, Minet; it must have 
followed me yesterday; if only it has done no harm to 
my lady and Rosette!” thought he. He did not dare 
to say, “If only it has not eaten them!” 

118 


A Cat! 119 

He called “Mini! Little ones, little ones! Mini!” as 
he did usually. There was no answer. 

“They are still afraid of the cat,” said he, “they have 
crept into some corner. I ought always to shut them 
up in their travelling cage. But the dear little ones love 
their liberty so much it seems cruel to confine them. 
Oh, I wish it were day!” 

He turned to go to bed, when he put his foot on 
something soft and warm. He started back hastily, 
and then got down on his hands and knees and felt for 
it with his hands. 

He found it, he picked it up, he felt it with care; it 
was quite small and covered with fine hair. Jean Paul 
felt the little feet, the long slender tail, the two tiny 
ears, the pointed nose; it was—it was a mouse! A 
mouse that the cat had killed and was going to eat. 
The unfortunate child covered it with kisses and tears, 

“Poor little thing!” said he sobbing, “and I to be 
sleeping! How wicked I was not to have known how 
to save them!” 

“Which one is it?” said he suddenly. 

“Ah! it is my lady. I know her by her size! No, it 
is Rosette! My lady’s tail is not so long! Poor Ro¬ 
sette !” He began kissing her again. “But no, it is my 
lady, which is still more unlucky.” 

He took the little dead animal so near the window 
that its fur touched the glass; but it was all in vain, not 
a ray of light; still dark night. 

“And your companion, poor little thing! Where is 
she? Eaten, devoured by that frightful beast!” 

Just then Jean Paul thought he heard a little scratch¬ 
ing in the straw which he used as a bed. He held his 


120 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

breath; he listened, he listened again; another scratch¬ 
ing, then a little cry, “He! he! he!” 

“One is alive yet!” cried he. “Which one? Which 
one? Oh, how I wish it were day!” 

It was not very warm in our friend’s room at night; 
he lay down in his straw, still holding his dear little 
animal in his hand and listening to the faint noise of 
the one who had escaped death. 

His eyes were wide open; he thought of the pretty 
clothes which had become useless, of the grief of Made¬ 
leine, and then of his poor mother, who would never 
again receive any money from her Jean Paul; it was all 
over. He cried all the time; he could not console him¬ 
self. After a while his eyes closed, but he would have 
liked better to have remained awake. He dreamt that 
he was giving a great performance in the garden of 
the Tuileries. A crowd of children surrounded him. 
The mice, in their new dresses, showed their backs to 
the public. They turned around. Oh! what a mis¬ 
fortune ! there was nothing in their dresses or hats, the 
hats and dresses were empty! 

“Jean Paul, you know very well that it was the cat 
that ate them,” said a little fair girl. 

Jean Paul awoke suddenly; he was wet with perspira¬ 
tion. But he still held tightly clasped in his hand the 
little dead animal. And now the day began to dawn; 
the first thing he looked at was the mouse. Is he still 
dreaming? No, he is wide awake. The little light 
which came through the window fell on the mouse 
which he held so carefully in his hand, and he saw that 
it was a gray mouse, quite gray, and of the prettiest 


A Cat! 121 

gray! What joy! what happiness! And he still heard 
the same scratching underneath his bed. 

He jumped up like a crazy person, took up the straw 
in his arms, and found close to each other, trembling, 
but still alive, my lady and Rosette, who, to escape from 
their enemy, had buried themselves in the furthest cor¬ 
ner of the straw. 

The terrible cat continued mewing in the entry, and 
the poor little creatures listened with terror. 

Jean Paul took them in his hands and kissed them. 

“So you have friends who come to see you, you little 
rogues!” said he to them, while showing them the poor 
gray mouse. Then he prudently shut them up in their 
old cage, opened the door of his room and drove away 
the cat. 

“A cat, a cat!” cried he, stamping with his foot in 
the entry. 

He still held the dead mouse in his hand. Suddenly 
he threw it to Minet. 

“Now that it is dead,” said he, “as soon as she has 
eaten it she will be satisfied.” 

The cat ran off with its prey. 

Jean Paul rushed to Mme. Bienfait's door. 

“Saved, saved!” said he. “Do not be afraid!” 

“Bless me! what is the matter?” cried Mme. Bien- 
fait, waking up suddenly. “What do you want, my 
child? What is the matter? I am coming!” 

“No, no,” cried Jean Paul, “stay where you are. 
They are saved.” 

“Saved, who?” cried Mme. Bienfait. 

“My lady and Rosette! the cat is gone!” 

“What cat? what? Are you crazy, my child?” asked 


122 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

Mme. Bienfait. “It is scarcely day, and it is biting 
cold; go to bed again.” 

“I am going, I am going, my good Madame Bienfait, 
I thank you; it is because I am so happy!” 

He jumped for joy, then came back again. 

“Saved, saved!” said he to Madeleine. “Isn’t it so?” 

Madeleine slept quietly, and her mother took good 
care not to wake her up. 

The next day all was explained; Madeleine turned 
pale with fear when Jean Paul told her of the danger 
his dear mice had been in, and good Mme. Bienfait 
easily pardoned our friend for having wakened her 
so suddenly. As soon as Jean Paul had finished telling 
the history of the night he began it again, he was still 
so much agitated by it. Madeleine would in the end 
have been tired of hearing it; but at eight o’clock she 
went to her mistress’s and did not return until evening, 
as usual. 

“At last!” she said, when she came in. “To-morrow 
is mid-Lent! And this evening, Jean Paul, the moon 
shines so brightly that we shall certainly have a fine day 
to-morrow. If it should be fine weather all Paris will 
be in the streets. The mice have magnificent dresses; 
we shall do a good business, you will see. You know, 
mamma, you promised me a long time ago that you 
would let me go out with Jean Paul at mid-Lent if it 
were fine weather. You are quite well now; you will 
not want me.” 

“No, my dear, go take a walk; go with your friend, 
and may God open all the hearts and all the purses of 
those you meet, my children.” 

And she took them both in her arms and kissed them. 



Chapter XVI 

Jean Paul acquires a love for cleanliness 

/ T A HE next day the sky was clear, the weather mild, 
and there was no mud upon the pavements. How 
happy Jean Paul and Madeleine were while walking 
through the streets filled with people. The prayer of 
the good mother was granted; hearts and purses were 
both open, and when at six o’clock in the evening they 
thought of returning home, Jean Paul found that he 
had made eighteen silver pieces and as many sous. 
Madeleine was pensive—almost sad. Her gaiety had 
left her entirely. She walked silently by the side of 
Jean Paul. 


123 



124 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Jean Paul,” said she suddenly to him, “have you 
not noticed how rough I am?” 

Madeleine had to repeat the question twice; Jean Paul 
thought he had not understood. 

“You, Madeleine! you rough! you who are gentle¬ 
ness itself, a lamb! Your mother always says so, you 
know.” 

“Ah, that’s true,” said Madeleine, “mamma says I 
am gentle.” 

She seemed quite disappointed. 

“But,” she added, “you’ve noticed that I am lazy?” 

“No, Madeleine, I’ve always seen you work will¬ 
ingly. Besides, I love you as you are. Do you know, 
Madeleine,” he said gaily, “that I believe we have made 
a great deal of money to-day!” 

“But,” said Madeleine, without answering him, “tell 
me what is my greatest fault.” 

“I assure you, I don’t know any.” 

“Yes, yes, I want you to think, and to try to tell me 
what it is!” repeated Madeleine. 

“But,” began Jean Paul, “I have told you already 
that I love you dearly; we do not see faults in those we 
love, you know. Tell me, dear Madeleine, how much 
do you think we have made to-day?” 

“Well, you don’t ask me what your faults are,” said 
Madeleine, ready to cry; “I beg you to tell me mine, 
and I’ll tell you yours.” 

The poor little girl had fully intended not to let the 
day pass without letting Jean Paul know how neces¬ 
sary it was to be clean. After having reflected a long 
time on what she should do, she thought it would be a 
good plan to accuse herself, before accusing her friend. 


Jean Paul Acquires a Love for Cleanliness 125 

“When he shall have said that I am rough and lazy, I 
can tell him, without giving him so much pain, that he 
is not clean/’ she had said to herself. 

But nothing succeeded. Jean Paul, instead of an¬ 
swering her, turned to her in a friendly way and said, 
“What’s the matter with you, my poor Madeleine? 
What has troubled you? Are you tired? We have 
walked a great deal to-day—lean on me!” 

Madeleine took Jean Paul’s arm and they walked 
along quietly, the little girl searching her mind for some 
means to bring about what she had to say. All at once 
she began with a firm voice: “You must know, Jean 
Paul, that mamma, after working so diligently for your 
mice, is now working for you. She is making a shirt 
for you! Day after to-morrow my father will come 
home, and we are going to have our great Sunday 
dinner. Mamma wanted her dear little Jean Paul to 
look well that day. You are pleased, aren’t you?” 

“Your mother is always kind to me,” Jean Paul 
replied. 

“If you only knew,” continued Madeleine, “that my 
father has always a nice white shirt on a Sunday, and 
that every day he combs his hair and washes his hands 
and face! Listen, my little Jean Paul,” said Made¬ 
leine, lowering her voice, “if you want him to love you, 
you must do a little as he does.” 

Jean Paul blushed and let go Madeleine’s arm. 

“I see how it is,” said he; “your father is a gentle¬ 
man, and he will despise Jean Paul because he is poor 
and badly dressed.” 

“Yes,” said Madeleine, blushing and becoming ani¬ 
mated ; “my father is a gentleman, although he is only 


126 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

a working locksmith. He despises no one, but he de¬ 
tests dirty people.” 

Then she added, in a mild and caressing tone of 
voice, “It would be so easy for my little Jean Paul to 
be clean and to be loved by my father!” 

She had come near him and had taken his arm again. 
“Let us see, Jean Paul; did you wash your face this 
morning?” 

“No,” answered Jean Paul in a low voice and with a 
gloomy look. 

“And yesterday?” 

“I do not know,” said he, still in the same tone. 

“And Sunday?” 

“Ah! Sunday, I went to the pump in the yard, took 
some water in the hollow of my hand and washed my 
face.” 

“Why do you not do it every day, my dear Jean 
Paul? The fountains are not made for dogs. When 
my father quits the workshop in the evening he is as 
black as a coal. At the first fountain he comes to he 
turns up his sleeves, unbuttons the collar of his shirt, 
then he takes a little piece of soap from his pocket, and 
rubs his hands, face and neck with it, until all the black 
coal is gone.” 

“But when it is cold ?” said Jean Paul, shivering. 

“And then poor papa is very cold, but he washes 
himself all the same. Ah, little Jean Paul” (Madeleine 
remembered her mother’s words), “we must have cour¬ 
age to do right, even to be clean.” 

Madeleine stopped; she had just noticed that she was 
quite alone. 

Jean Paul was no longer beside her. She looked all 


Jean Paul Acquires a Love for Cleanliness 127 

around anxiously, and saw him with his head under 
the fountain, rubbing his face with his hands. 

“Is this the way?” cried he, turning towards her, the 
water running from his face, which he commenced 
again to bathe. 

“Yes, yes!” said she; “rub yourself well.” 

Then she went to him, took her white handkerchief 
from her pocket, unfolded it, and wiped her friend’s 
head carefully. 

“There!” she said; “my dear little Jean Paul, you 
are superb! The cold water has brought the roses to 
your cheeks. That does you good. You are no longer 
tired, are you? When you wear the white shirt that 
mamma has made for you, and when you blacken your 
shoes nicely-” 

“Ah, as to my shoes,” said Jean Paul, “I can do 
nothing with them; they are full of holes.” 

“More reason for cleaning them well. When a thing 
is worn, it looks better clean. I will lend you our brush 
and blacking.” 

Jean Paul examined himself from head to foot. 

“I will brush my blouse also, and very hard, for it 
is very dirty.” 

Madeleine began to laugh. 

“Brush your trowsers as much as you want to,” said 
she; “they are woollen, and want brushing badly; your 
blouse is cotton; to make it clean it must be washed.” 

“Yes, my mother washed it every Saturday.” He 
sighed deeply, as he always did when he spoke of his 
mother. “Poor mamma!” he added in a low voice. 

“But,” said Madeleine quickly, without noticing the 
sadness of her friend, “now that you are a big boy, 



128 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

what is to hinder you from going to the washhouse and 
washing your blouse yourself? You could do without 
it for a day. You can let a little of your gray vest be 
seen, which you wear underneath. I will show you 
where the washhouse is.” 

Jean Paul looked at her astonished. 

“The washhouse,” she said, “is a place where the 
workmen and workwomen go to wash their own clothes. 
For two sous, they give you warm and cold water. But 
do not be uneasy, I will explain all that you have to do. 
To-morrow will be Friday.” (She counted on her 
fingers.) “You will wash your blouse in the morning— 
it will dry by the afternoon. I’ll iron it in the evening, 
and you will have it Sunday, when you dine with father, 
or even on Saturday if you want it. My little Jean Paul 
will be dressed like a prince.” 

The two children took each other’s arms and began 
to run; it was getting late. Madeleine’s little heart was 
lightened of a great weight. She had given good ad¬ 
vice to her friend, without giving him pain; Jean Paul 
would be clean and her father would love him. 

“How happy I am! how happy!” she said in a low 
voice. 

“How happy I am!” said Jean Paul also. “I have 
made a great deal of money to-day. But I am so happy! 
Say, Madeleine, will you answer me now ? How much 
money do you think have we brought back to-day? I 
have already asked you three times, without meaning 
to reproach you.” 

But no, Madeleine did not answer; they were going 
in the porte-cochere of their old house and she hurried 


Jean Paul Acquires a Love for Cleanliness 129 

on. She crossed the court and ran up the staircase 
quickly, pulling her friend after her. 

“Victory! mamma!” cried she, on opening her 
mother’s door. “Look at our Jean Paul.’’ 

Mme. Bienfait started back a step on seeing our 
friend. She no longer saw the brown frizzled head, 
which looked like the brush used for removing spiders’ 
webs from ceilings; his hair was plastered on his fore¬ 
head and cheeks like a black silk cap. 

“Bless me,’’ said the good woman, “he has fallen 
into the river!” 

“At all events, dear mother, you see that he is not 
drowned,’’ said Madeleine, kissing him. “Mamma,’’ 
continued she, “I bring you a rich Jean Paul, and a 
Jean Paul well washed and well cleaned. Victory! 
victory! hug him well!” 

Mme. Bienfait kissed the little boy, and more will¬ 
ingly than she had ever done before. 

“Dear child,” said she, “this will not be the last time, 
will it ? Water will become your every-day friend-” 

And then, seeing that he blushed a little, she hastened 
to add: 

“And this money ? Let us see it! let us count it! Put 
the sous on one side, and the silver money on the other. 
There, my little friend.” 

Counting everything, Jean Paul had made twelve 
francs and a few sous. It was magnificent! 

“With the two francs that mother has taken care of, 
that will make fourteen francs,” said Madeleine. 

“Now, how can I send this money to my mother?” 
said our friend. “Escaladios is so far!” 

“Why, in a letter,” said Mme. Bienfah 



130 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

"All that money in a letter! that will break through 
the paper/' said Jean Paul, "and then I don't know how 
to write." 

"You shall dictate, and I will write, poor child," 
answered Mme. Bienfait. "The money won't break 
through the paper," added she, laughing. "I know 
how to manage it. Bigger sums are sent by letter." 

"Money is not put in a letter," said Madeleine in a 
low voice. 

"Well, where do they put it, then?" asked our friend. 

"Good night, good night," answered Madeleine; the 
question embarrassed her a little, and she felt tired, 
besides. 


Chapter XVII 


Mademoiselle Jean Paul 

jC'ARLY the next day Jean Paul knocked at his 
friend’s door. 

“What do you want?” asked the sweet voice of 
Madeleine. 

“The shoe brush,” answered Jean Paul. 

“I will bring it to you,” said Madeleine. “I am up; 
wait a minute. You see, darling mamma,” said she to 
Mme. Bienfait, “he is quite converted. He is going 
to become as neat as father.” 

The mud was taken off the shoes in the entry; a little 
blacking was rubbed on very hard, and there was plenty 
of laughter. 

When they were very shining, Jean Paul put them 
on and danced a mountain dance. 

“We have had enough fun!” said he. “Now, little 
Madeleine, lend me your clothes brush. I am going 
into my room to take off my trowsers and brush them 
well.” 

Madeleine went into her mother’s room and brought 
back the brush. It was a respectable brush, which by 
hard service had lost half its bristles. 

“It is not new,” said she, laughing, “but you will see 
that it is good. Brush them very hard, my little friend; 
do not leave a spot upon them; do you hear ?” 

As usual, Jean Paul obeyed his dear Madeleine. He 
131 


132 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

went into his room, undressed himself, hung his 
trowsers on a nail and began to brush them with all his 
might. 

Poor trowsers! you are very old, you have come very 
far. You were not always carefully shut up in a good 
trunk, but on foot, always on foot. Jean Paul did not 
think of that. He brushed and brushed, till he was 
bathed in perspiration. Let us leave him at his work. 

Mme. Bienfait and Madeleine talked together while 
arranging their apartment. 

“Mamma/’ Madeline said suddenly, “you know that 
I must go to the washhouse this morning; I told my 
mistress I should not come to work before the after¬ 
noon. You are not strong enough to do the washing. 
I must do it this week. I will call Jean Paul; he must 
go with me.” 

She ran out of the room. In a minute she returned, 
bursting with laughter. She wanted to speak; she 
writhed; the tears ran from her eyes, and she was 
obliged to sit down. 

“What is the matter, my child? what is it?” 

“Oh, mamma!” said Madeleine, still laughing, “I 
shall never be able to tell you.” And she laughed until 
she cried. 

“When you can explain yourself, I shall be able per¬ 
haps to understand.” Mme. Bienfait spoke seriously, 
took the broom and began to sweep. 

“No, I never can; I am laughing too much.” Made¬ 
leine tried to control herself. “Well, mamma, I knocked 
at Jean Paul’s door. I called Jean Paul. ‘Well, Made¬ 
leine,’ he answered. ‘Come to the washhouse quick!’ 
‘I can’t, Madeleine.’ ‘What! you can’t!’ ‘No.’ ‘Why?’ 


Mademoiselle Jean Paul 


133 


‘Because’-” She began to laugh again and could 

not talk any more. 

Mme. Bienfait came over and shook her a little. 
“Why could he not go to the washhouse? Do tell me?” 

“It is because, because-” She burst out laugh¬ 

ing, impossible to speak. 

Then they heard through the partition the lamenting 
voice of Jean Paul. “Have pity on me, my good 
Madame Bienfait!” 

Mme. Bienfait called back: “I do not hear what you 
say, my friend. This foolish Madeleine never stops 
laughing, and deafens me. Come here and explain 
yourself.” 

Jean Paul spoke through the partition, evidently cry¬ 
ing, “I can’t!” 

Mme. Bienfait answered, “What! you can’t! What 
do you mean by saying that?” 

“No, mamma, he can’t come out of his chamber,” 
said Madeleine, “because-” and off she went again. 

“You are intolerable with your foolish laugh, my 
child,” said the mother, who was beginning to laugh 
herself. “What! Jean Paul, are you fastened in?” 

Madeleine made a motion of No—still unable to 
restrain her laughter. “He cannot come out of his 
room—because-” 

Mme. Bienfait said to Jean Paul in a loud voice, 
“You are fastened in, then?” 

Jean Paul answered, also speaking very loud, “No, I 
am not fastened in. But it is my trowsers!” 

“What is that he says?” 

But Madeleine was holding her sides laughing. “He 
has brushed his trowsers so much-” 







134 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

Now Mme. Bienfait was getting a little angry with 
Madeleine. She said, “I do not understand it at all. 
If you would stop laughing a minute, dear child, and 
speak reasonably-” 

Now Madeleine really tried to restrain herself—but 
still laughing—“Yesterday you said, mamma, that his 
trowsers—and then-” 

Mme. Bienfait ran out of her room and knocked at 
Jean Paul’s door, Madeleine following her. “Let me 
see, my boy, what is all this? Has anything strange 
happened?” 

“I can’t go out—I have no trowsers,” said Jean Paul 
through the door. 

“How is that? What have you done with yours?” 

Jean Paul answered, in a very small voice, “I have 
brushed them so much that they are all in pieces.” 

“Why did you brush them so hard, you awkward 
little fellow?” 

“Madeleine gave me the brush, and said to me, 
'Brush, brush them hard, my little Jean Paul! Brush 
them as hard as you can!’ ” 

“But, mamma,” said Madeleine, screaming with 
laughter, “I assure you I did not tell him to tear his 
trowsers.” 

Jean Paul went on, through the door: “Then to 
please her, I brushed so hard that I was quite in a 
perspiration.” 

Mme. Bienfait interrupted him: “Hand me this 
unfortunate pair of trowsers; I will try to mend 
them.” 

“Oh! you are very good!” said Jean Paul, half open¬ 
ing the door. “There they are, Madame Bienfait.” 




Mademoiselle Jean Paul 135 

“What is this?” cried Mme. Bienfait, taking the 
trowsers. 

Jean Paul opened the door again. “Here is the other 
half; when I went to put them on, they tore in two.” 

“Why!” cried Mme. Bienfait, examining the trow¬ 
sers, “they are nothing but rags. It is impossible to do 
anything with them!” She turned to Madeleine, “Well, 
my poor child, you have made a nice piece of work 
here; it is your fault that this boy is a prisoner.” 

Madeleine put her arms around her mother. “Kiss 
me, dear mother, and confess that the trowsers must 
have been very old, and that Jean Paul must have 
brushed very hard to have reduced them to this state.” 
She took in each hand one of the pieces and began to 
laugh again. 

“I laugh in spite of myself. But I am very much 
annoyed at feeling that this poor child is hindered from 
going out and is half naked.” 

Then Madeleine put her arms around her mother and 
took her into their room. “Dear mamma,” she said, 
“could you not make a pair of trowsers for our friend 
out of that little brown woollen petticoat that I had last 
winter, and which is now so narrow and so short for 
me?” 

“With a great many seams in it, perhaps,” said Mme. 
Bienfait reflecting. “Go and look for it in the ward¬ 
robe.” 

“Here, mamma. If you cut them out, I will sit up 
this evening and sew them; and besides, I will take 
advantage of Jean Paul's being kept in the house to ask 
him for his blouse. I will wash it to-day, with our 
clothes.” 


136 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Then you are going to take away his blouse be¬ 
cause he has no pantaloons! This unfortunate child 
can’t pass the day in this manner, half naked. I will 
make him put on the petticoat and saque that he wore 
the other day when his clothes were drying; he will be 
able at least to leave his room.” Mme. Bienfait gath¬ 
ered the things together and carried them to Jean Paul. 

When Madeleine started for the washhouse with her 
bundle on her arm, Jean Paul came out of his room, 
dressed in Mme. Bienfait’s and Madeleine’s clothes. 

“Good-bye, Mademoiselle Jean Paul, my little sister,” 
said she to him. “Be very good until I come back. I 
have told mamma to hide my father’s brushes and 
trowsers; I did not know that a brush could be so 
dangerous.” 

She ran away laughing. Jean Paul, laughing also, 
followed her; but he remembered his costume, of which 
he was ashamed, and ran and took refuge with good 
Mme. Bienfait. 

“Well, my good friend, you look as if you were 
caught in a trap,” said she to him. “You will be kept 
in the house the whole day; but we will take advan¬ 
tage of it, to write to your mother. That will console 
you, won’t it? Help me to dust and put the room in 
order, and then we will be the sooner done.” 



MADEMOISELLE JEAN PAUL 




137 



































Chapter XVIII 


Jean Paul has a secretary 

TT7HEN all was in nice order, Mme. Bienfait took 
* * from her bureau an inkstand and a pen. The 
ink was dried up. They used more needles and thread 
here than pens and ink. A little drop of clear water 
nearly repaired the evil. Meanwhile, Mme. Bienfait 
looked for something that she could not find. At last 
she felt in her pocket and took out a sou, and said to 
Jean Paul, 

“Go to the grocer's at the corner, my friend, and 
bring me back two sheets of paper." 

Jean Paul had taken the sou, but he stood motionless 
as if he had been changed into a statue. Go out! he! 
dressed as he was! with his bare legs, and his girl's 
dress. Why, it was impossible, entirely impossible! 

Mme. Bienfait began again to look in her drawers. 
Suddenly she turned to Jean Paul. 

“What are you thinking about? Run quick! Ah! 
poor child, I understand. You are right; remain here; 
you cannot go out as you are. Everybody would 
laugh at you. Give me the sou, and I will go myself 
and buy it." 

Jean Paul held the sou tight in his hand. 

“You must not think of it, my good madame. Go 
out for the first time in such weather! you who have 
139 


140 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

been so sick! Don’t you hear the wind whistling and 
the rain falling?” 

“But it is quite near here, my boy; do not worry 
about it, I shall soon be back. Give me my sou.” 

“Well,” said Jean Paul, screwing up his courage, 
“I would rather go out, than let you go. What would 
Madeleine say when she came home? People will 
make fun of me—so much the worse for them! but I 
would rather bear that, than that you should have your 
bad cold back again.” 

While speaking, he went out of the room, and ran 
along the entry. 

“The good little child!” said Mme. Bienfait to her¬ 
self. She moved Madeleine’s workbox in dusting it. 

“Here is the letter-paper I have been looking for 
so long!” said she. “It was on my bureau, under 
Madeleine’s box.” 

She ran into the entry, and called down the staircase. 

“Jean Paul! I have found the letter-paper. Come 
back at once.” 

The child had gone down to the last step when he 
heard Mme. Bienfait’s voice. He climbed up the six 
pair of stairs quick as a cat, and came into his friend’s 
room, smiling, but out of breath. 

Paper, pen, and ink were ready. Mme. Bienfait 
seated herself at the table, placed the sheet of paper 
before her, and dipped her pen in the ink. 

“Well, my little friend, I am waiting now. You 
have only to tell me what I am to write. I must begin 
with 'My dear mamma,’ mustn’t I?” 

“Oh! you know better than I what to put on that 
nice white paper!” answered Jean Paul. “My words 


Jean Paul Has a Secretary 


141 


would spoil it. Write the letter according to your own 
notion: it will be much better written.” 

“But, my boy,” said Mme. Bienfait, laughing, “I 
have nothing to say to your mother; I do not know 
her. Besides, a letter from me would not give her 
the same pleasure as one from her dear Jean Paul.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” sighed Jean Paul. “Not 
even how to commence it.” 

“Oh, yes,” said Mme. Bienfait. “Imagine that this 
sheet of paper is a little fairy, who will go with it to 
Escaladios, find your mother, and repeat to her all that 
you have told her here. Come, speak!” 

“Oh, little sheet of paper,” said the child, clasping 
his hands, “tell my mother that Jean Paul is so happy 
in sending her some money. Tell her it is not Jean 
Paul’s fault, that he has not sent any before. He had 
not any except at Bordeaux. But you must know, 
beloved mother, that I have forgiven the wicked thief, 
as you taught me to do; therefore I ought not to speak 
of it even to you.” 

“Not so fast,” said Mme. Bienfait, laughing. 

“And then, mamma,” continued Jean Paul, “you 
must know that the good God has sent me a mother, 
who is as good as you, and whom I love very much, 
but not as much as you, my first real, darling mother; 
and then a little sister, named Madeleine, who is so 
good also! and they take great care of me. I live in 
the next room to them. Do not be afraid, mamma, 
Jean Paul is no longer alone- 

“Oh, but a letter is not like that, I am sure, good 
Madame Bienfait!” 

“Go on,” said the good woman, still writing. 



142 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

He began again: 

“And then, mamma, I am very much worried; who 
goes to bring water since I left? You are not so pale, 
I hope, dear mamma. I wish I could kiss your dear 
face, and hug my sisters also. Do not let little Marie 
forget me; she must be quite big now. 

“Mamma, the mice are very well; they send their 
compliments to you and my sisters. The cat was very 
near eating them, only they hid themselves under 
my bed; then he ate a gray one. I was very much 
frightened. 

“Darling mother, I send you fourteen francs. I 
say my prayers every day, and every Sunday I take 
my pretty book to church.” 

Jean Paul stopped, blushed, and then began again: 

“Oh, dear mother, your little Jean Paul believes that 
if you had seen him all the time since he left you, 
you would not be displeased with him.” 

Mme. Bienfait put down the pen, and drew the child 
towards her. 

“That means that you have behaved well since you 
left her, doesn’t it?” 

She kissed him affectionately. 

“Is it finished?” said she. 

“You must put, 'Mamma, pray to the good God, if 
you please, for my new mamma and sister, for I do 
not know how to thank them. Mamma, your little 
Jean Paul asks the good God to bless you, my dear 
little sisters, the house, the animals, and all the coun- 
try.’ 

“That is all, madame,” said Jean Paul, wiping his 
eyes. 


Jean Paul Has a Secretary 143 

“I am going to give her our address, so that your 
mother may know where to write.” 

“What a good idea!” said Jean Paul, clapping his 
hands. 

“And then on Sunday I will give the letter and the 
money to Monsieur Bienfait, who will take charge of 
it, and put it in the post-office.” 

About six o’clock at nightfall, Madeleine came back 
from the washhouse. Jean Paul had been running 
along the entry for half an hour, going from Mme. 
Bienfait’s room to the head of the staircase, listening, 
then calling, then listening, then going back again. 

At last, he thought he heard steps at the foot of the 
staircase, and leaning over the balustrade, he called 
out, 

“Madeleine, is it you?” 

“Here I am! here I am!” she said. 

Jean Paul went down four steps at a time, and 
joined Madeleine at the middle of the first staircase. 

“How you are loaded!” said he to her. “Give me 
that big wet bundle. You are very tired.” 

Madeleine wanted to keep her bundle, but Jean Paul 
had already put it on his back, and had rapidly gone 
up several steps. She ran to get up to him, but he ran 
faster than she did, although his petticoat embarrassed 
him every moment, and soon after she heard him say 
to Mme. Bienfait, 

“Here is your Madeleine, who has come back. 
Quick! get the soup ready.” 

“You must eat, my little Madeleine,” said he to her 
when she reached the room. “Eat, and rest yourself. 
I will hang out the clothes. Don’t be uneasy, it will 


144 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

be well done. I have hung them out more than once 
for my mother.” 

While speaking, he went all around the table with 
his bundle of clothes on his back, as if he were looking 
for something. 

“Where are you going? what are you doing?” said 
Mme. Bienfait to him. 

“I am looking for a place to hang the clothes,” 
answered Jean Paul. “At home we have the road, and 
the bushes, but here-” 

“Ah, indeed, you did not think of hanging the 
clothes in our room—where we have just space enough 
for our beds and our table?” said Mme. Bienfait. 
“Look! here is a line, you will find a big nail at one 
end of the entry near the staircase, and another at the 
other end.” 

“That will do,” said Jean Paul. “Begin your dinner. 
Eat, Madame Bienfait, and you also, Madeleine; I 
will be with you in a minute.” 

Jean Paul took a chair to fasten the line, and hung 
the clothes on it; he got up and down a great many 
times, until all the clothes swung gracefully from one 
end of the entry to the other; then he went and seated 
himself at the table where his two friends were already 
seated. 

At the end of the meal, the courageous little Made¬ 
leine gaped while eating her cheese, and she leaned 
her back against her chair, and let her arms fall by her 
side; she had not the strength to hold them up. 

Suddenly she started: 

“Oh, mamma,” said she, “Jean Paul’s trowsers, have 



Jean Paul Has a Secretary 145 

you cut them out for me? I must make them this 
evening, you know.” 

“Yes, my dear, I have cut them out, and done more 
still,” answered Mme. Bienfait. “Take them; they 
are behind you, on the back of your chair.” 

Madeleine turned around, seized hold of them and 
examined them all over—Oh joy! the trowsers were 
cut, basted, sewed and finished. 

“Dear mother!” cried Madeleine. 

“I knew very well that you would be too tired to 
make them this evening, my dear,” said Mme. Bienfait. 
“I felt much better to-day, and I have been able to 
work. We will make the shirt together to-morrow 
evening.” 

They bid each other good night, kissed each other, 
and separated; Jean Paul carrying off his precious 
trowsers, that he hardly dared to touch, and which he 
carried carefully folded. He looked at them with 
respect. 


Chapter XIX 


Jean Paul dines out 


T last the famous Sunday came. It was five 



-*** o’clock. The table was set in Mme. Bienfait’s 
little room. The tablecloth was as white as snow. 
Madeleine had set the table. She would not let her 
mother help her. She would have let Jean Paul, if he 
had been there. “But where is he ? What is he doing ? 
Why does he not come, the naughty boy?” 

Jean Paul was in his room, standing, trembling there. 
He did not dare to sit down, for fear the blades of 
straw might stick in his trowsers. He had on his 
white shirt, his new trowsers, and his blouse nicely 
washed. He looked at his hands; he had already been 
twice to the pump. 

“I hope the water in our yard washes well!” thought 
he. 

For the first time he noticed that there was no look¬ 
ing-glass in his room; he wanted to look at his face 
and hair. His heart was beating at the idea of seeing 
Madeleine’s father. He put his hand on the latch of 
the door to open it; but no, he was too much afraid. 

If he could have seen through the wall this terrible 
father, sitting on an old armchair, looking at his dear 
little Madeleine with a smile while she was getting 
everything ready for dinner, he would have been less 
frightened. 

M. Bienfait was still weak; his sufferings had made 


146 


Jean Paul Dines Out 147 

him pale. He leaned towards the fireplace, and drew 
the coals together. 

“Jean Paul/’ said Madeleine, “give a stick of wood 
to father. Oh! how foolish I am,” said she, inter¬ 
rupting herself; “I called Jean Paul, as if he were here. 
But I am really going to call him. I am sure he has 
come in.” 

She ran out of the room, and they heard her knock¬ 
ing at her friend’s door, and very soon she came back 
with him, drawing him in with her hand. He was 
blushing to his ears, and his eyes were fastened on 
the ground. 

Madeleine led him to her father’s armchair, and put 
Jean Paul’s hand in her father’s. 

“Father,” said she, “here is our little friend, Jean 
Paul, who took such good care of mamma.” 

“Oh, he is a good boy,” said Mme. Bienfait. 

M. Bienfait pressed Jean Paul’s cold and trembling 
hand very warmly, and held it in his own, as if to 
warm it. He drew the child still nearer to him. 

“Jean Paul,” said he to him, “you have been of 
great service to us; you have behaved to us as if you 
were our own son, so we love you. But how you 
tremble! Why, my child, is it because you are afraid 
of me? Come, raise your head, and look me in the 
face.” 

Jean Paul raised his head slowly, and looked at M. 
Bienfait; then his face brightened with smiles. 

“Oh no,” cried he, “I am not afraid of you; you are 
just like Madeleine.” 

And he jumped on M. Bienfait’s knees, put his arms 
around his neck, and kissed him very warmly. 


148 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“He is right/’ cried Mme. Bienfait. “Madeleine 
and you have the same brown eyes, the same mouth, 
the same hair; indeed you resemble each other very 
much.” 

“Ah! well, if I am so much like Madeleine, it may 
be said that I am not handsome, not handsome at all,” 
looking roguishly at his daughter. 

But she, who for a long time had been accustomed 
to this joke, laughing, threw her arms around her 
father. 

“Naughty, naughty father!” and she smothered him 
with kisses. Jean Paul remained also on his knees, 
and continued to caress him. Poor M. Bienfait could 
scarcely breathe. “You will send me back to the hos¬ 
pital, dear children,” said he, smiling with happiness. 
“Go, you had better set the table.” 

Jean Paul and Madeleine sprang to the floor, then 
ran to Mme. Bienfait to give her her share of the kisses, 
they said. Every plate was wiped ten times, every 
glass also, and they admired first this, then that. At 
last they sat down to the table, as M. and Mme. Bien¬ 
fait said they were dying with hunger. 

Never was there a gayer meal. They ate, they drank, 
they laughed, and they talked of everything: of Jean 
Paul’s mother, of M. and Mme. Fumeron, of my lady 
and Rosette, and of their new dresses. M. Bienfait 
talked to Jean Paul of his journey, asked him many 
questions as to the employment of his time, of his little 
savings, and so forth. Then he looked at him stead¬ 
ily, and said thoughtfully: “This child will gain his 
livelihood, you will see.” 

“How do you know that, darling father?” said 


Jean Paul Dines Out 149 

Madeleine, enchanted with the prophecy. “Are you a 
magician? Can you read faces?” 

“Yes,” answered M. Bienfait. “I can read fortunes 
in the face, and in the clothes. Look, little Madeleine, 
do not this nice white skin, this glossy hair so nicely 
combed, and these clean clothes, speak to us of order, 
of care, and even of courage?” 

Jean Paul blushed deeply, and looked at Madeleine, 
who blushed also. Mme. Bienfait changed the conver¬ 
sation. 

They finished by drinking a glass of blackberry 
cordial to the health of the absent. Jean Paul’s mother 
and her four daughters were mentioned so often, that 
Jean Paul began to believe he was again in Escaladios; 
but he had never before seen such a feast. 



Chapter XX 

Jean Paul's first step in literature 


* | A HE week finished well. The weather was fine. 

M. Bienfait was able to go back to his workroom, 
at first for a few hours each day, and then for the 
whole day. Jean Paul went out diligently with his 
little mice, and his receipts were so good, that on Satur¬ 
day evening he was able to give to Mme. Bienfait three 
francs that he had saved for his mother. 

“Dear father, will you let Jean Paul come on Sunday 
150 









151 


Jean Paul's First Step in Literature 

when you are giving me lessons?” said Madeleine, 
just as Jean Paul left after bidding them good night. 

“But-” said M. Bienfait. 

“Oh, but I beg you to do so,” returned Madeleine. 

“I would willingly,” said M. Bienfait, “if that would 
please you; however-” 

Madeleine did not listen any longer, she ran after 
Jean Paul. 

“You will come to-morrow at eleven o’clock exactly, 
won’t you, my little Jean Paul?” 

“What for?” said Jean Paul. 

“You will see! remember, eleven o’clock exactly,” 
repeated Madeleine. 

“Yes, yes,” said our friend. 

Jean Paul was returning from church, when he heard 
the clock strike eleven. He remembered the promise 
he had made to Madeleine the evening before, and 
hurried on. On going into Mme. Bienfait’s room, he 
was quite astonished to see Madeleine seated at the 
table leaning over a book, which she was reading aloud. 
Her father, who was seated alongside of her, was 
listening to her, and correcting her occasionally. She 
nodded to Jean Paul, but without stopping. M. Bien¬ 
fait pointed to a chair near Madeleine. Jean Paul 
seated himself there without daring to say a word, or 
move. He remained so quiet that by degrees, he heard 
nothing but hou, hou—ou, ou, and then he did not 
hear anything at all. He nodded to M. Bienfait and 
Madeleine, but luckily they did not perceive it. 

All at once he awoke suddenly. Madeleine had 
stopped reading. 

“It is your turn now, Jean Paul,” said she. “Father, 




152 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

are you not going to have the goodness to teach him 
to read? I will write while you teach him, and I will 
apply myself so closely, that my writing will be as well 
done as if you were looking over the page. You must 
know, Jean Paul,” added she, “before my father’s 
sickness, he gave me a long lesson every Sunday, and 
mamma made me study every evening.” 

Jean Paul sat motionless, with open mouth; he 
rubbed his eyes to try to understand what was going 
on. 

M. Bienfait turned over the leaves of a book. 

“Do you know how to read, my boy?” 

“Not much,” said Jean Paul. 

“Oh, father!” said Madeleine, raising her head, which 
was bent over her copybook, and interrupting a mag¬ 
nificent line of Y’s. “Make him read the first story 
of the book, that one about Little Roger. It is so 
pretty, and so easy.” 

“Willingly,” said M. Bienfait. He put the book on 
the table, and pointed with his finger to the first words. 
Jean Paul began: “Our—Our—” 

“No, my child, a, a.” 

Jean Paul stammered, “A, a father—” 

“Oh! no, a lit—” 

Said Jean Paul, “A father—” 

“A father!” cried M. Bienfait. “Why, where do 
you see father?” He read: “A 1-i-t-t-l-e—little.” 

Jean Paul continued: “A father, our, no, little.” He 
began again: “A father—Who—” 

Madeleine interrupted him, stopped, then striking 
with her hand upon the table. “It is not that, Jean 
Paul! A little boy.” 


153 


Jean Paul’s First Step in Literature 

Jean Paul began again, pointing with his finger, and 
saying slowly: “A—little—boy—who—who art in 
heaven.” 

M. Bienfait corrected him: “A little boy, named 
Roger; n-a-m-e-d, named. Tell me where you see, 
who art in heaven?” 

“But do you not see,” said Jean Paul, with tears in 
his eyes, “that I only know how to read Our Father 
in my book. I will go and get it for you. I have just 
put it in my room.” 

M. Bienfait burst out laughing. “Well, then, my 
poor boy, you do not know how to read at all?” 

“Not much!” said Jean Paul, sadly. “I told you so.” 

“Poor little Jean Paul!” said Madeleine, smiling 
sweetly at him. “The little you know is better than 
nothing. Come, you will learn very quickly; it is not 
so difficult as you think.” 

“In the meantime, my dear Madeleine,” said her 
father, “It will be impossible to teach him at the same 
time as you. Let us see. Where is your ABC book? 
I will put him at ba, be, bi, bo, bu. That will be 
enough for to-day.” 

The A B C book was found and the syllables re¬ 
peated very often by M. Bienfait. Jean Paul began 
to study, or at least he put his book on the table before 
him, and was quiet. The silence was so great, that 
nothing was heard but the movement of Madeleine’s 
pen. 

Jean Paul got up suddenly: “Madeleine, I believe it 
is quite clear to-day. I must go out with my lady.” 

“Why,” cried Madeleine, “It is pouring—don’t you 


154 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

hear the rain falling on the roof? What are you 
thinking of? Do you know your lesson?” 

“Oh no! but I have not time to learn it.” 

“What! not time?” 

“That is to say—my mice—I think they must be 
hungry, I am going to feed them.” He half opened 
the door. 

“Jean Paul,” said Madeleine, seriously, “I shall be 
quite angry with you, if you do not come back imme¬ 
diately.” 

“I will be back again,” Jean Paul said, going out. 
“That is, that is—well, yes.” 

“I think that the mice do not want feeding,” said 
M. Bienfait, “as much as Jean Paul wants to move his 
legs. My dear Madeleine, your friend will not profit 
much by our Sunday lesson. Poor child! accustomed 
as he is to run through the streets from morning till 
night! How can you expect him to apply himself to 
study?” 

“Oh, darling father, I hope that he’ll—But here 
he is. Come, Jean Paul, take your book again quickly. 
We have but a quarter of an hour more; at twelve 
o’clock the lesson will be finished.” 

There was silence again. Jean Paul gaped once, 
twice, three, and four times. “Madeleine, where is 
your mamma?” said he. 

Madeleine answered in a low voice: “Hush! study! 
At church. Hush!” 

Jean Paul gaped again. There was a moment of 
silence. Then he said in a loud voice, “It is Sunday! 
it is time to put on the soup. Had I not better go 


155 


Jean Paul's First Step in Literature 

and get the coal at the shop? When your mamma 
comes in she will find-” 

Madeleine replied, “We have enough! Learn your 
lesson! Hush!” 

M. Bienfait had taken up a book. He pretended to 
be reading, but he was looking at the children, and 
could not restrain a smile. 

Jean Paul fixed his eyes a moment on his book, then 
he said to Madeleine: “How wet your mamma will be!” 

“Hush! hush!” 

“Are you sure that she has an umbrella?” 

“Yes, she has an umbrella, and a big one too—But 
do study now, Jean Paul!” 

The clock struck, and Jean Paul jumped quickly 
from his chair: “Twelve o'clock! twelve o’clock! the 
lesson is over!” He stretched his arms over his head. 
“How hard we have worked! I could not have stood 
it any longer. I was more tired than if I had walked 
a dozen leagues.” 

M. Bienfait put his book down. “Poor child! and 
you do not know your lesson! If you had learnt it, 
you would not have been so tired, I am sure.” 

“Oh, do not scold him, darling father,” said Made¬ 
leine. “I am going to do the same for him, as mother 
did for me. Every evening I will give him a short 
lesson, and on Sundays you can see what progress he 
has made.” 

“But, Madeleine,” said Jean Paul, “Don’t you know 
you are always so tired in the evening, it would be 
bad for you?” 

Madeleine pointed her finger at him, laughing. “Oh 
the naughty, lazy boy! You see, father, he does not 



156 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

want to learn to read. But so much the worse, Mon¬ 
sieur Jean Paul,” added she, firmly, although laughing 
still. '‘I want you to learn to read. Do you hear? 
Now, go get the mice and show them to father; it is 
raining so hard, we must amuse ourselves a little at 
home.” 

Mme. Bienfait came back, not very wet. She wanted 
Jean Paul to stay and lunch with them. Madeleine 
clapped her hands with delight. There was no more 
talking of books, nor reading, nor lessons. Jean Paul 
amused them, and they passed the day gaily. 



Chapter XXI 
A good lesson 

T HE next evening at eight o'clock, Madeleine held 
her work in her hand; while leaning over Jean 
Paul, she showed him with her right hand, pointing 
with her needle, the letters he must say. Jean Paul 
157 





158 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

looked red, his hair looked like brushwood, and his 
eyes were quite swollen; he had been crying. 

Madeleine was saying, “Well, go on, Jean Paul. 
B-a, ba; b-i, bi; b-o, bo. Go on! are you asleep?” 

“Well,” grumbled Jean Paul, “these books I have 
always found make people either go to sleep or cry.” 

“But I thought that you used to take excellent les¬ 
sons with your mother. Did the little book at Escala- 
dios make you sleep and cry?” 

“Not always—but very often.” He gaped. 

Madeleine was a little dissatisfied. “Come, go to 
bed, my poor Jean Paul! but you must come here to¬ 
morrow, at half past seven o’clock. Do you promise 
to do so? and will you try to learn a good lesson?” 

Jean Paul kissed her. “You are not angry with 
me, dear teacher, are you?” 

The next evening, when our friend came to see Made¬ 
leine, he had already put on his school expression; 
that is to say, he looked downcast, and half asleep. 
There was no sleeping at Mme. Bienfait’s. M. Bien- 
fait was busy mending a delicate key of a beautiful 
workbox; he was trying it in the lock. Mme. Bien- 
fait was mending a greatcoat, and Madeleine had a 
bundle of linen by her that she was mending. 

As Jean Paul softly opened the door of the room, 
he heard the sound of voices speaking with animation. 
One would have said that M. and Mme. Bienfait and 
Madeleine spoke all at once, and that the subject was 
very interesting. But as soon as they saw our friend 
they were silent, and Jean Paul thought he saw Made¬ 
leine hide something quickly under her bundle of 
work. 


A Good Lesson 


159 


Jean Paul did not say good evening to his friends, 
he had not strength enough to do so, but he offered 
his good fat face to each one to kiss. 

“Ah!” said Madeleine to him, “we are going to have 
a good lesson to-day, I am sure.” 

Jean Paul seated himself beside her, took the ABC 
book from the table, opened it slowly and commenced 
with a distressed voice: b—then he heaved a great 
sigh; a—another sigh, ba. He sighed again and 
stopped, then said b again; he sighed a, he sighed ba. 
Still sighing, “A—oh, no, that one has a little dot above 
it; b-i—bi-” 

Madeleine leaned towards him, and passed her fin¬ 
ger along the line. “No, you always say, b-a—ba! it is 
b-e—be, b-” 

Jean Paul began to cry: “But how can you expect 
me to know them? They are all alike, excepting this 
one with a dot, and that’s so small.” 

Madeleine left her work. “All alike, Jean Paul! 
a-e-i-o-u are all alike?” 

Jean Paul was still half crying. “There is so little 
difference, it is not worth speaking of: I have not good 
eyes.” He jumped up quickly. “Oh, Madeleine, how 
you have muddied your boots to-day! and your mamma 
also went out to-day, and I see one, two, three, four, 
five, six shoes that are drying in the chimney corner. 
I am going to clean them in the entry, so as not to 
make any dust. Will you leave the door open?” 

Madeleine looked quite dissatisfied. She was going 
to scold him, but no, she smiled. 

“Jean Paul,” said she to him, “let the shoes alone, 
and only think of your lesson. Listen,” added she 




160 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

quickly. “If you read well this evening, I promise you 
a reward. ,, She made a motion with her head to her 
father and mother. “And a nice reward! Won’t it 
be so, father?” 

Jean Paul, still standing up, said, “But, my poor 
Madeleine, what good is there in learning and knowing 
these ugly little black things? We can pray very well 
to the good God, love our friends, and serve them, 
without that! And then you can go to heaven without 
knowing them; isn’t it so?” 

Now Mr. Bienfait interrupted his work and looked 
at Jean Paul. “It is certain that knowing how to read 
will not be of much service to us in Paradise, but it 
may help us to get there. And I assure you that know¬ 
ing how to read is very useful in this world, every 
day of our lives.” 

Madeleine said quickly, “And I will give you proof 
of it in an instant, Jean Paul; yes, I will prove it to 
you at once.” 

Jean Paul reseated himself, and began to sigh again. 

Madeleine said, “Ah! I have thought of a good plan! 
Go and get your prayer book, Jean Paul. I am going 
to teach you to read in another way. It will be very 
funny.” 

Jean Paul went out, and came back again with his 
book. While he was absent getting it, his three friends 
began to talk together gaily. They were silent when 
he came in—What could be the matter? 

Madeleine said, “Look in your book for the Lord’s 
Prayer at the place you are in the habit of reading.” 

“Here it is,” said Jean Paul turning over the leaves 
of the book. 


A Good Lesson 161 

“Well, look at the first word, 'Our/ How do you 
say it?” 

“Our.” 

Madeleine took a book from the table. “Here is the 
history of Little Roger. If you show me all the ‘Ours* 
that are in this story, without missing one of them, you 
shall have a reward.” 

“What reward ?—tell me!” 

“No!” 

“Please tell me!” He went around the table and 
begged M. and Mme. Bienfait to tell him what was 
the reward Madeleine intended to give him; but both 
of them put their fingers on their lips, and did not 
answer. 

“You will never get it,” said Madeleine, “if you 
run about, instead of studying.” 

So Jean Paul sat down again, and took his book. 
“Oh, very well! This will be a great deal more amus¬ 
ing than ba, bo, bi, bu. Madeleine, here is one of those 
things.” 

“Of those what?” She looked. “Why no; that is 
not our—that is out; pay attention!” 

Jean Paul put the books on the table alongside of 
him. One of the fingers of his right hand he placed 
on the famous “Our” which was to serve him as a 
model, one of the fingers of his other hand was search¬ 
ing line by line through the story of Little Roger. He 
was looking so attentively that his eyes seemed nearly 
starting from his head. He jumped up from his chair: 
“Ah! now this time I have found one of them, and 
a good one!” 

“Yes, a real our. Go on.” 


162 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

Jean Paul pointed with his finger: 'Two, three; 
aren’t they, Madeleine ?” 

"Yes, yes, the reward is near.” 

Jean Paul went on: "Four, five, six—No, this is not 
one of them. Five, six seven, eight. Oh, Madeleine, 
I have done. I have got to the end of the history of 
Little Roger. My reward! my reward!” 

But Madeleine looked through the book attentively: 
"You have missed two of them; you must look again, 
and show them to me once more.” 

"Oh dear!” he sighed. "Let me see, I will begin 
again; one, two, three 'ours,’ four, five, six, seven-” 

"No, you must show the word and say, 'our/ every 
time you meet it.” 

Now Jean Paul was quite animated: "Our, our, our, 
our; no, not that one; our, our, our, our, our, that’s 
all!” 

Madeleine counted on her fingers: "You have only 
said nine of them, there are ten. Jean Paul, my friend, 
begin again.” 

"Ugh! I can stand it no longer-” 

M. Bienfait interrupted: "Madeleine, I beg you will 
excuse his saying the tenth one. Look, the poor fellow 
is all in a perspiration. He has done very well this 
evening, and now I think you can speak to him of his 
reward.” 

Madeleine hesitated. "Well, I will excuse you this 
evening, Jean Paul, but I want to tell you that to¬ 
morrow, you must find all the 'fathers/ and not miss 
one of them.” 

Jean Paul was wriggling in his chair. "Yes, yes, 
yes! The reward!” 



A Good Lesson 163 

“And you must look again for all the ‘ours' of to¬ 
day.” 

“All the ‘ours/ yes. The reward!” 

But Madeleine kept on, very seriously: “And day 
after to-morrow you must look for all the 'whos,’ and 
all the ‘ours.’ ” 

Jean Paul cried out very loud, quite beside himself: 
“All the 'fathers,’ all the 'ours,’ yes, yes!” 

“Oh,” said Mme. Bienfait, “You keep him too long 
in suspense; let us see the reward.” 

Madeleine lifted up her work, and took from under 
it a small newspaper. 

Jean Paul turned away. “Is that the reward? a 
paper with those little black things on it to read! Thank 
you, I do not want it. If I had known it, I would not 
have found a single 'our.’ ” 

“Wait, wait,” said Madeleine slyly. “It is a story 
I am going to read to you.” 

“Are there fairies in it?” 

“Better than that. Father, read it, I beg of you. 
You read better than I do.” She passed the paper to 
M. Bienfait. Unfolding it, he began to read. “A 
very useful tale, is the name of the story.” 

Jean Paul leaned back in his chair as if he intended 
to go to sleep. 

M. Bienfait began again: 

“We hear from Bordeaux that yesterday there was 
a great crowd collected in the street. A lady very ele¬ 
gantly dressed, was standing before a jeweller’s win¬ 
dow, admiring the chains and bracelets. A young boy 
in a working dress came near her, and seemed to 
admire them also. Suddenly, she turned around 


164 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

quickly, and cried out; it seemed to her that some one 
was feeling in her pocket. The thief ran away, or 
rather wanted to run away; but his legs became en¬ 
tangled in the long purple silk train of this elegant 
lady, and he fell full length on the pavement. Before 
he could get up, the passers-by flocked around him, and 
a police officer put his hand upon him. The most singu¬ 
lar part of the affair was that it had only been a few 
hours since the young man had come out of the jail 
of our town, where he had passed six months; and the 
same police officer who had arrested him the first time, 
arrested him now. They searched him immediately, 
and they found in his pocket a watch, a bracelet, a lace 
barbe, which the elegant lady recognized as hers, and 
a little bag of coarse linen tied with a red string, and 
which contained a great many small pieces of silver 
money.” 

Jean Paul came near the table and interrupted: 

"How was this bag made? Did they say that Jane 
was written in red letters on the prettiest side ? It was 
my sister Alice who embroidered it for mamma, when 
she learnt how to mark. Oh, tell me, tell me, my good 
M. Bienfait.” 

Madeleine took the newspaper from her father, and 
said very calmly: “Little father, you are tired; that is 
enough for to-day; vou can finish the storv to-morrow.” 

Jean Paul seized the newspaper. “Oh, my little 
Madeleine! I beseech you to read me what comes 
after.” But Madeleine put her hand on her throat. 
“I am quite hoarse also; you made me talk so much 
during the lesson—I cannot speak another word.” She 
hid her desire to laugh. 


A Good Lesson 


165 


Jean Paul took the newspaper to Mme. Bienfait, 
and knelt before her. “Oh dear Madame Bienfait, I 
beg you to read the end of this story.” 

The stern Madeleine said quickly, “You know very 
well that mammas lungs have been weak since she 
had the bronchitis last winter, and that she still coughs, 
and cannot read aloud.” She took the newspaper and 
folded it in such a way, that the letter from Bordeaux 
was underneath, and handed it to Jean Paul. “Since 
no one can read it for you, read it yourself, my little 
friend. Here is the place where my father left off: 
pieces of silver money.” 

“Oh! how cruel you are!” cried Jean Paul. “You 
know very well that I can’t make out a single word.” 

Madeleine rose and stood opposite to him, with her 
arms crossed. 

“Ah, well, Monsieur Jean Paul, is it not useful to 
know how to read?” 

“Yes, yes.” 

“Will you tell me again, that you will not learn?” 

“No, no, never.” 

“Will you study well?” 

“Yes, yes, perfectly.” 

Then Madeleine seated herself again. “Well, you 
are a good boy, and—you can go to bed.” 

Jean Paul ready to cry, stamped on the floor. “Cruel, 
cruel Madeleine! The end of the story!” 

“What story?” said Madeleine. But M. Bienfait 
made a motion to her to begin to read again; Made¬ 
leine, smiling, unfolded the paper, and continued: “A 
bag of coarse linen, tied with a red string, and con¬ 
taining many little pieces of silver money. When the 


166 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

police officer saw the bag, and its contents, he stood 
still for a moment, as if he wished to recall something 
to his memory. It appeared that when the robber had 
been arrested for the first time, some one had laid 
claim to a little bag containing money, and that the 
policeman had searched from the top to the bottom of 
the miserable lodging house of the thief, without being 
able to discover anything. ‘Who then claimed this 
little bag?’ said the policeman. He thought that he 
remembered that it was a poor child, that he had met 
on the bridge of Cubesac—but where can he be found 
now?” 

Jean Paul interrupted: “It was I, here I am!” 

Madeleine motioned to him to be quiet, and went 
on: 

“It was a question where the thief had put the money, 
and how he could find it so easily, so soon after com¬ 
ing out of prison. It was thought that he must have 
an accomplice who had helped him in his robberies. 

“Our rascal, escorted by twenty curious persons, was 
taken back to his prison, which he never ought to have 
quitted.” 

“Is that all?” asked M. Bienfait. 

“No, there are still a few lines: It is said the same 
evening, thanks to the active search of the police, the 
accomplice of our young thief was arrested. There 
were found in his house jewels, porte-monnaies, hand¬ 
kerchiefs, umbrellas, and a quantity of other things that 
will be returned to the owners.” 

Jean Paul jumped up quickly: “Thank you, my 
little Madeleine; good-bye, good mamma Bienfait; 
good-bye, my good friend; good-bye, Madelichon.” 


A Good Lesson 167 

“What! good-bye! but where are you going?” they 
cried out, all together. 

“I am going to bed,—but to-morrow before day¬ 
light, I am going to Bordeaux.” 

“To Bordeaux!” 

“I am going to claim my little bag. Don’t be un¬ 
easy, I will return.” 

“What, you are going a hundred and twenty leagues, 
and the same back, and all for fifteen francs!” Said M. 
Bienfait. 

“Oh, I know the way very well.” Jean Paul was 
counting on his fingers. “In five or six weeks, you 
will see your little Jean Pual returning with his bag.” 

“But you can have the money in a week, and remain 
quietly here.” 

“Is that possible!” Jean Paul was astonished. 

“You will only have to write a letter to the judge at 
Bordeaux, in which you can explain to him how your 
bag is made, and you can give him your address. You 
see that the police officer remembers you and your 
claim.” 

Now Jean Paul was embarrassed: “Oh, but I don’t 
know how to write.” 

Madeleine said quickly, “I will write for him, father. 
You see” (she turned towards Jean Paul) “it is a good 
thing to know how to write.” 

Jean Paul clasped his hands: 

“Oh! if you will write for me, I will promise to learn 
all that you want.” 

“No, I had better write, my child.” M. Bienfait 
thought a moment. “First of all, Jean Paul must tell 
me exactly how this famous bag is made, that will 


168 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

prove that it belongs to him. Madeleine, give me a 
piece of paper and pencil, I will copy it to-morrow in 
my letter. Now, Jean Paul, tell me how your bag was 
made.” 

Jean Paul opened his eyes very wide, and spoke very 
quickly: “It is quite a small linen bag; there are letters 
on the outside, because one day as it was my mother's 
fete, then Alice did not know how to mark, she went 
every day to the neighbors who taught her, and then 
for my mother’s fete, and to put her thimble and thread 
in the bag, and Jane which was my mother’s name was 
written on it, and then when I left the country, mother 
gave it to me to put my money in, and that’s all.” 

M. Bienfait sat with his pencil in the air: “If it 
were possible to understand a word of all this rig¬ 
marole, I would give twenty francs.” Madeleine burst 
out laughing. 

“Come,” said M. Bienfait, “This famous bag 
is-?” 

“Is mine; my mother gave it to me.” 

“That was not what I asked you; is it gray or white ?” 

“It is yellow,” said Jean Paul, “And made of the 
stuff shirts are made of.” 

Now M. Bienfait was writing. “Of linen, then? 
Is it big?” 

“About as big as my two hands, and on the outside 
is marked ‘Jane’ with red cotton in big letters.” 

“And the inside?” 

“And the inside is yellow also, with letters which 
do not seem very well done; that is the under part.” 

“I did not ask you that, I know very well what is 
on the wrong side. What was in it? How many 



A Good Lesson 


169 


pieces, and what kind of pieces? The thief may per¬ 
haps have taken some of them, but the judge will 
understand that very well.” 

Jean Paul counted on his fingers: “There were six 
twenty-sous pieces, and eighteen little ten-sous pieces; 
no ugly sous/’ 

“Well, my child, that will do, I will send this descrip¬ 
tion to-” He stopped and reflected, then he spoke 

to his wife. “Tell me what address shall I put, my 
dear; I cannot put The Judge, at Bordeaux/ the letter 
would not perhaps arrive there.” 

Mme. Bienfait thought a moment. “When you take 
back M. Aubersart’s box, you can perhaps ask his 
advice. I believe he is a judge also, and he is such a 
good man.” 

“Oh yes, whenever I do any work for him, he always 
says 'Good day, Monsieur Bienfait! How do you do, 
Monsieur Bienfait?' That is a golden thought of 
yours, my wife. But my lock is not yet ready; it is 
a fine piece of work, and I must not spoil the wood. 
Go, children, run away, let me do my work. This box 
must be mended this evening, so that to-morrow at 
nine o’clock, I may be at Monsieur Aubersart’s.” 

M. Bienfait raised the wick of the lamp and began 
his work. 

Madeleine said good night to her parents, and went 
into her narrow room. 

Jean Paul said good night also, and went towards 
the door; but he rested his hand on the handle of the 
lock. After a few minutes, Mme. Bienfait, astonished 
at not having heard the noise of the shutting of the 
door, turned around, and saw Jean Paul. 



170 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

‘Well, why don’t you go to bed?” said she to him. 

“That poor unfortunate fellow, still in prison, that 
makes me unhappy.” He sighed. 

M. Bienfait said gently, “What do you mean, my 
child? Crime must be punished.” 

“But,” said Jean Paul, “He has not repented, since 
he began again immediately; the good God will not 
forgive him!” 

“Go to bed, my dear little boy,” said Mme. Bienfait. 
“Don’t distress yourself.” 

Jean Paul hesitated. “It would perhaps be better 
not to write for this little bag, and to tell this poor 
creature we would give it to him, provided he repented,” 
he went on in a low voice. “I would give my little 
bag to the good God, in order that he might give him 
repentance.” 

“You are a good boy, Jean Paul,” said M. Bienfait, 
“Come and kiss me. This money belongs more to your 
mother than to you, my dear child; let us try to get it 
again. You are going to pray to God to-night—pray 
for this criminal. You are right, he is greatly to be 
pitied.” 

Just then Madeleine returned to the room. “And to 
think no one has thanked me! It was however I, Jean 
Paul, who brought this wonderful newspaper from 
the workroom. It was the head woman who ran to 
buy it, when madame was out. I did not listen at first, 
but when I heard Bordeaux! then I thought of Jean 
Paul, and listened a little. I did right, didn’t I?” 

“Indeed you did!” cried Jean Paul. 

Mme. Bienfait took up her scissors. “We will cut 


A Good Lesson 171 

out the story of the little bag from the newspaper and 
keep it.” 

“Oh! give it to me,” begged Jean Paul, “that I may 
put it in my prayer book. It shall be the first thing 
that I will read. Oh! and then let me give the re¬ 
mainder to my mice to eat. Dear little newspaper, 
that has given us so much pleasure! You would like, 
would you not, to go into the white stomachs of my 
lady and Rosette?” 

But M. and Mme. Bienfait were speaking together: 
“Children, children, good night, and go to bed; it is 
half-past ten o’clock.” 

The two children kissed each other, and went into 
their rooms. 



Chapter XXII 


A case of conscience 

M ME. BIENFAIT drew near the fire, and moved 
the cinders. It was the month of March, but 
it was still very cold. The nights were freezing. M. 
Bienfait also drew his chair near the fireplace, and the 
two began their work again. Mme. Bienfait was mend¬ 
ing the old greatcoat of her husband, putting patches 
on the lining, first sewing one sleeve and then the other. 
The more she did, the more she seemed to find to do. 
M. Bienfait was putting on and taking off his little 
lock, screwing and filing; the little key would not fit. 

To amuse themselves while working, these honest 
people chatted. They spoke of their child, of their 
children—for Jean Paul had really won their hearts. 

“He was very pale this evening/’ said Mme. Bien¬ 
fait. 

“Do you think so?” said M. Bienfait, “He has a 
good complexion, however.” 

“He has become very pale and thin since we have 
known him. I often think he does not eat every day.” 
“Can it be possible ?” 

“I have often wanted him to eat a little meat with 
us; at first he accepted, now he always refuses; he is 
afraid to deprive us of it, I am sure.” 

172 


173 


A Case of Conscience 

“He could not live without eating, however; do you 
know about how much he makes a day?’' M. Bienfait 
was troubled. 

His wife hesitated. “I have often thought—and I 
wanted to ask you—if it would not be disagreeable 
to you, if I were to ask him to give me every day 
what he spends in those bad, detestable eating houses, 
and then I would give him his dinner.” 

“If I were well off, I would like much better to 
give him his dinner for nothing.” 

“We must think of it seriously, before he gets into 
the habit of eating here; for after all, poor child, the 
days that he would not make anything, we would have 
him to eat with us, just the same; always when he 
receives a good deal of money, he puts it aside for 
his mother. I would not touch his little hoard—and 
now, Madeleine wants new chemises, and she must 
have a summer dress, also.” 

“Ah!” said M. Bienfait sighing, “our illness this 
winter has not made us rich!” 

Let them talk, these good parents, and let us go into 
Madeleine’s little room. It is very easy, for the door 
is open all night. The little room is so narrow that 
Madeleine would suffocate if it were shut. 

Madeleine has been in bed for a long time, but it 
was in vain that she shut her eyes, and breathed hard, 
to persuade herself that she slept. She had been so 
agitated all the evening, that her heart still beat, and 
she heard in her head, “toe, toe, toe.” It is very tire¬ 
some not to be able to sleep. But all at once she forgot 
her trouble, she heard her name and Jean Paul’s pro¬ 
nounced by her father in the next room. She listened. 


174 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Oh, it is too true,” said she to herself, “that Jean 
Paul is badly fed!” 

And then she remembered having seen him pick up 
a crust of bread from off a heap of dirt. “Oh! 
mother,” said she to herself, “what a good idea to have 
him to dine with us! Oh! papa would like it, wouldn’t 
he?” she still spoke to herself. “But I do not want 
new chemises, I will mend my old ones. Oh! what 
will they decide upon?” Her heart beat harder than 
ever, she listened and listened. 

But then a small voice within began to talk quite 
low. ’ At first, Madeleine hardly heard it. 

“Madeleine,” this still small voice said, “is it right to 
listen to what your father and mother are saying, when 
they think that you are asleep?” 

But Madeleine answered herself, “It is not my fault 
that I cannot sleep. I have done all that I am able to 
do to make myself sleep.” 

“That’s true,” answered the small voice, “but still 
you are not sleeping, your good parents think that you 
are asleep, and they are talking as if they were alone, 
and you are wide awake listening to them.” 

“Mother! my little mother! I am not asleep!” called 
out Madeleine in her sweet voice. 

“You are not sick, my dear?” answered good Mme. 
Bienfait, tenderly. 

“No, dear mamma,” said Madeleine, who just then 
came into the room with her petticoat and little shawl. 

She threw her arms around her father’s neck. 

“Forgive me, father and mother, I have heard all 
that you said. I could not sleep, and I listened to you 
without thinking that it was deceiving you a little, but 


A Case of Conscience 175 

all at once my good angel whispered it to me in a low 
voice.” 

Mme. Bienfait drew her towards her and kissed her: 

“My dearest child, this voice that you heard within 
was better than an angel; it was the good God Him¬ 
self Who spoke to you. ,, 

“Oh! my dear parents, since I have heard you, I ask 
you with all my heart to give a dinner every day to our 
dear Jean Paul. I know that he spends barely from 
five to six sous every day for his food. Let him bring 
this to you, and give him every morning a good cup of 
coffee and milk, and a good dinner the same as ours, 
every evening. Ah! little mamma, I know that will 
cost you more than six sous a day, but you are so good! 
and then, mamma, I do not want either chemises or 
dresses. The old ones will do yet, and I will mend 
them well, and that is so much gained. Ah! dear papa 
and mamma, let us all be quiet, and let us listen to that 
voice which speaks from the bottom of the heart: 
'Have pity on him who has no father, and who is far 
away from his mother/ ” She looked at them. 
“Mamma’s eyes say yes, and papa’s too.” She clapped 
her hands. “How good you both are! I am going at 
once to wake Jean Paul. I can’t wait until to-morrow 
to tell him the good news.” 

Mme. Bienfait caught her hand. “Foolish child! it 
is half-past eleven o’clock! Let him sleep, and you go 
to bed and sleep too, and that immediately.” 

Madeleine gave the most affectionate kisses to her 
dear parents, jumped into her bed, covered herself up 
well, and now slept soundly. 


Chapter XXIII 
Jean Paul has a plate set for him 
T seven o’clock the next morning, Madeleine 



knocked at the partition separating their room 
from Jean Paul’s. 

“Get up, get up,” said she, “breakfast is in this way.” 

“What?” Jean Paul answered through the partition. 
“Who is waiting for me? What?” 

“Come quick! everybody is ready. It is a bad habit 
to come late to meals.” 

Jean Paul came in half asleep, and rubbing his eyes. 
“What have I done, my little Madeleine ? What is the 
matter ?” 

“What is the matter? Why, you are making us all 
wait; the milk and coffee both will be cold. Look! the 
toast is burning.” 

“Ah! but how is it my fault?” said Jean Paul with 
open eyes and mouth. 

Madeleine was scraping the toast with a knife, and 
putting her head in the fireplace, that Jean Paul might 
not see that she was laughing. “Why, you know very 
well, Jean Paul, that it was agreed last night, that you 
were to breakfast and dine with us every day. What! 
don’t you remember?” 

Madeleine poured out the coffee and milk into the 
cups. “Yes, Monsieur Jean Paul, it was agreed that 
you should give mamma six sous every day to pay for 


176 


Jean Paid Has a Plot Set for Him 1 77 

your food. What, is it true that you do not remember 
it?” She laughed. 

Jean Paul replied very seriously: “I suppose it was 
during the reading lessons. I slept a little then.” 

“Well, well, I see that you begin to remember.” 

Jean Paul thought a while, then said very quickly, 
“Ah! but no! yesterday I did not sleep. It was all the 
‘ours/ and then the reward, and then the newspaper, 
and then the little bag!” 

During this time Madeleine had finished preparing 
her father’s and mother’s breakfast. Then she poured 
out a full bowl of milk, added the coffee and sugar to 
it, put a chair to the table, and said, making a graceful 
curtsy to Jean Paul: “Your breakfast is ready.” 

But Jean seemed neither to see nor hear. 

“This is for you, my little Jean Paul,” Madeleine 
said to him in her most caressing voice. “Eat it at 
once; the coffee will clear your head, and bring back 
your memory.” 

Jean Paul still stood at the door. “Oh, it is not 
possible—you know very well, Madeleine, I can’t eat 
here.” 

Madeleine had helped herself, and was beginning to 
eat. “You do not like coffee and milk?” 

“I liked it at Escaladios on Christmas day and at 
Easter. But really it is too good for me. A piece of 
bread is a good enough meal for Jean Paul.” 

“Too good for you! Look, we all take it.” She 
pointed to her father and mother. 

“Oh! that’s another thing! you, you are Monsieur 
Bienfait; you, you are Madeleine’s mother; you, you 
are Madeleine; while, as for me, I am only Jean Paul.” 


178 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“Come, dear boy,” said Mme. Bienfait, “take your 
coffee while it is warm; it will be a pleasure to us to 
see you make a good breakfast.” 

“Sit down, Jean Paul,” said M. Bienfait. “Come, 
my friend.” 

Jean Paul seated himself at the table and began to 
eat. Then he stopped suddenly: “But all this will 
cost you a great deal of money every day,” said he. 
“Oh, Monsieur Bienfait, really I can’t eat this way 
every day! Madeleine, is it true that I promised to 
come every day to breakfast and dinner ? I must have 
been without heart to have said so; once I thought you 

were very rich, but since your mother was sick”- 

He interrupted himself, and turned very red— “I will 

not say you are poor, but in short”- he blushed 

more and more. 

Madeleine was blushing also. “You can truly say 
it, little Jean Paul, that we had no money left in the 
house, and that we did not know what to do, and that 
you helped us very much.” 

Jean Paul interrupted her: “It is all the same, 
Madeleine, I can’t come every day, and eat you out of 
house and home in this way. It would cost you enor¬ 
mously—and I was to give you only six sous for the 
trouble! I could not have promised that, my Made¬ 
leine.” 

“I did not say that you had promised; I said that 
it was agreed. Well, yes, papa, mamma, and I (for 
they consulted Madeleine), we agreed that Jean Paul 
should breakfast and dine here.” 

“But where was I then ?” 

“In your bed sleeping soundly.” Madeleine came 




179 


Jean Paul Has a Plot Set for Him 

up to him affectionately. “But now my dear little Jean 
Paul must promise us never to miss coming morning 
or evening. Do not say no, dear friend. You would 
then prevent us from receiving that great blessing that 
the good God has promised to those who feed the 
hungry—and you are always hungry, always hungry, 
aren’t you?” 

Jean Paul blushed and answered, looking affection¬ 
ately at all his friends, “Not now, at any rate.” 

“Well, now it is decided.” Madeleine gaily offered 
her open hand to Jean Paul. “Take my hand, Jean 
Paul.” He obeyed. “And now go take my father’s 
and mother’s hands, and remember that this is a solemn 
promise. Every day at seven o’clock in the morning, 
and at eight o’clock in the evening you must come here. 
Good-bye! Why, I had almost forgotten your lunch¬ 
eon ! Look! here is a nice piece of bread.” 

“Well, that is too much. Don’t be uneasy, Made¬ 
leine, I can exhibit my mice to the bakers and confec¬ 
tioners, and get a piece of stale cake from them.” Jean 
Paul put back the piece of bread in the cupboard. “I 
would like to go out with my lady to make some more 
money. But it is not yet eight o’clock, and there is 
no one in the streets. Dear Madame Bienfait, let me 
at least do your housework. I can wash the dishes, go 
and get water as I did at Escaladios, I can sweep, I will 
do all indeed. I will be the little servant, and you will 
be the lady. So you will not be so tired, and you will 
have more time to sew; you will make more money, 
and Jean Paul will not bring you to poverty.” 

M. Bienfait patted him on his cheek and said, “You 
are a good boy!” Then he went out with his precious 


180 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

box under his arm. Madeleine also went to her work 
at the mantua-maker’s. 

Jean Paul stayed with Mme. Bienfait until all was 
cleaned, and the room put in order, then he went down 
three times with a large jug to the fountain in the yard, 
and brought it up each time filled with water. He 
wanted also to make the purchases for dinner, but 
Mme. Bienfait could not trust to any one the choice 
of the small piece of meat and the vegetables necessary 
for their evening meal. 

“I entreat you,” said Jean Paul, ''to let me go in your 
place; I will beg the butcher so hard, and I will tell him 
how good you are that he will let me have everything 
cheap.” , 

Mme. Bienfait would not yield; she went out with 
her basket on her arm. 

Jean Paul was quite alone in his friend’s chamber. 
What could he do? It was only ten o’clock. Jean 
Paul knew very well that in the forenoon there were 
only business people in the streets, who did not stop to 
look at anything that was shown them, and who gave 
nothing. It was only in the afternoon that the little 
children went out, and the fine ladies walked. What 
could he do, then? Commonly, he went out to get his 
breakfast, sauntered along by the shops, and after¬ 
wards came in for his little mice; but to-day he did 
not desire to saunter. Mme. Bienfait’s room spoke of 
work—all there was in order, dusted, mended, cleaned, 
washed. Jean Paul looked around him. All at once, 
he saw on the mantelpiece his prayer book, and the 
famous story of Little Roger. He did not feel much 
tempted to touch it. 


181 


Jean Paul Has a Plot Set for Him 

“Bah!” said he, “it is not amusing, but Madeleine 
will be so pleased.” 

And now he has taken up the two books, he searches, 
he compares, he counts—and oh! what good luck! he 
has found the ten famous Ours! “There is Father, 
there are only six of them. But the whos! see them, see 
them! How glad and astonished Madeleine will be this 
evening!” He intends to do the same every day. 

Meanwhile, Jean Paul had applied himself so much, 
that his cheeks were burning, and the little words 
danced before his eyes. He put the books back again 
on the mantelpiece. 

Mme. Bienfait came back. The sun was shining 
brightly; it came down into the yard. The water that 
he had got for Mme. Bienfait reminded him that Made¬ 
leine had told him that fountains were not made for 
poodles. He did not dare to ask himself, either, what 
M. Bienfait thought of him; but since he was to dine 
now every day with his friends, he would never again 
forget this dear fountain, he would go there twice a 
day, he would be clean—clean as Madeleine’s father. 

At eight o’clock in the evening, when M. Bienfait 
and Madeleine came in, Jean Paul was there; he had 
set the table, he had blown the fire, and he was stirring 
the stew. 

“Our affair gets along nicely,” said M. Bienfait at 
dinner-time. “I reached Monsieur Aubersart’s just 
as he was going out, but he took the time to listen to 
all my story, all your story, Jean Paul. He is so good, 
you would have thought he took pleasure in hearing 
about the mice, and about your mother. I was going to 
ask him what was to be done to get back your money, 


182 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

but I had not that trouble. He took the little paper 
from my hands which I had just read to him and on 
which I had written how your famous bag was made. 
He smiled while reading it: 

“ ‘That will do, father Bienfait,’ said he, ‘I am going 
to write to Bordeaux; I will take charge of this little 
affair. Come back—let me see—in two weeks, I think 
you will find here the little bag worked with red cotton/ 

“I thanked him very much. He told me, with his 
kind smile, that he was glad to do me a service, as well 
as the little master of the mice, and I went away very 
joyful. You see that it is just the same now, as if you 
had your bag of money in your hands.” 

Jean Paul would have liked to thank the good M. 
Bienfait, but his mouth was so full he could not say a 
word; and when he had swallowed his big potato, and 
he wanted to speak, his heart was so full of gratitude 
that it choked him. He saw himself, he, the poor, for¬ 
saken one, received as a beloved child; he had found a 
father, mother, and a sister. The tears came into his 
eyes. 

“Oh, ,, said he, “you are all, you are always good to 
Jean Paul from morning till night.” 

Madeleine sent him a kiss, and Mme. Bienfait said 
some affectionate words to him, and patted his cheek; 
then she changed the conversation—she saw the emo¬ 
tion of the poor little boy, and did not wish to increase 
it. 

In the evening pupil and mistress were enchanted 
with each other. Madeleine found that Jean Paul had 
made so much progress that she went for her slate, and 


Jean Paul Has a Plot Set for Him 183 

began to make him write the first words that he read 
so well. 

“It is more amusing to write than to read, ,, said 
Jean Paul. 

The mistress and pupil would perhaps have gone on 
with their lesson all night, if at ten o’clock Mme. Bien- 
fait had not sent them to bed. 


Chapter XXIV 


Jean Paul no longer has a secretary 

T HEY were at dinner again some days afterwards. 

Jean Paul passed his plate to Madeleine, who held 
it out to M. Bienfait. It was M. Bienfait who helped 
the soup; but when his plate came back, instead of the 
soup, Jean Paul found—What? the little bag! yes, the 
little yellow bag with the red letters. He opened it 
and counted. There was only one piece missing—it 
still contained fourteen francs! Jean Paul jumped 
from his chair, clapped his hands, and sang out with 
joy. He would have forgotten his soup if M. Bienfait 
and Madeleine had not thought of it, and filled a plate 
of it for him. 

“But it is not two weeks,” said Jean Paul, “since 
that good gentleman told you to come for the bag.” 
“Two weeks to-day,” answered M. Bienfait. 

“How good you are to have thought of it!” said 
Jean Paul. “I had forgotten it. How quickly the time 
has passed!” 

Jean Paul was right; those two weeks had passed 
very fast. He had learned his lessons well, he had 
studied zealously; all were pleased with him. Two 
weeks pass very quickly when one is busily employed. 

That evening, our friend did such wonders on his 
slate, that Madeleine declared that he knew how to 
make all his letters. 


184 





185 














































































































































' , i. 
























Jean Paul No Longer Has a^Secretary 1 87 

“All, all?” asked Jean Paul. 

“Yes, all,” answered Madeleine. 

“Then,” said Jean Paul, “I know how to write.” 

“Yes, you are beginning,” replied Madeleine. “I 
have thought of something!” said she immediately. 

She spoke in a low voice to Jean Paul, who answered 
in the same tone; a minute after, she got up, and went 
to the bureau, and took from it many things which she 
wanted; then the two children seemed to be engaged 
in some terrible work. Madeleine was leaning towards 
Jean Paul and seemed at the same time to be encour¬ 
aging and correcting him, but always in a low voice. 
Jean Paul bent over the table, and was quite silent. 
M. and Mme. Bienfait asked one another what this 
great affair could be, which was giving them so much 
trouble. At last, after a long hour, Madeleine cried 
out “Victory! Victory! Mother, father! Jean Paul 
has written to his mother!” 

And she showed them triumphantly a sheet of letter 
paper, on which was written in letters as big as a finger, 
rather shaky, rather crooked, a little humpbacked, but 
very easily read, these few words: 

“Darling mother, Jean Paul loves you; here are 
fourteen francs.” 

“Why!” said Mme. Bienfait, “It can be read very 
well—it is really well written.” 

“You understand, mamma,” Madeleine explained, 
“we have only written what was necessary. Jean Paul 
wanted to write about my father, about you, the mice, 
and his sisters, and so on. But my poor Jean Paul, we 
would have been a month writing a letter like that. 
Think, father! he was obliged to write letter by letter.” 


188 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

M. Bienfait laughed. “Oh, I know well, my dear, 
that you are an excellent teacher.” He looked at the 
letter. “Really, it is not badly done at all; only Jean 
Paul must sign it, so that his mother may see that it 
was he who had written it.” 

“Oh, darling father!” Madeleine counted on her 
fingers. “Eight letters yet to write! J-e-a-n P-a-u-1. 
It will take us at least twenty minutes to do it. And we 
are so tired! and it is already ten o'clock. Little father, 
have the goodness to add in your good handwriting, ‘It 
was Jean Paul who wrote this.’ Afterwards you can 
write the address, and put the money in the letter, 
father, as you did last time; you can do all that so well! 
then your little Madeleine will kiss you, and thank 
you, and go to bed.” 

“And Jean Paul, also, if you please.” 

The good M. Bienfait added the few words, folded 
the letter, wrote the address, and sent it off the next 
day to Escaladios. 

But as soon as the good father came in to his dinner, 
Madeleine ran to him. 

“Father,” said she, “the letter! have you put the 
letter in the post?” 

“Certainly,” said M. Bienfait, “very early this morn¬ 
ing. Did not my dear little daughter tell me to do so ?” 
said he, kissing her. 

“Would you be able to get it back again?” 

“Impossible, my child, it is on its way to Escaladios, 
and already perhaps it is half-way there.” 

“What a pity! father, two weeks ago Jean Paul gave 
two francs and fifty centimes to mamma, to keep for 
him, and we have forgotten to put them with the four- 


Jean Paul No Longer Has a Secretary 189 

teen francs from Bordeaux which have gone to his 
mother. I have just found them in the little box, while 
I was putting the drawer in order/’ 

“But I did not forget them at all, Mademoiselle 
Madeleine,” said her mother. “I knew perfectly where 
they were.” 

“Then, mamma, why did you not give them to us 
yesterday, when Jean Paul wrote his letter?” 

“I kept them to buy shoes for our friend, who would 
soon be barefoot; when he makes as much more, he 
will have a nice pair of new shoes.” 

“How well it was to do so, my little mother! But 
then you always do right. But poor Jean Paul also 
wants a new blouse.” 

“I will see to the blouse.” She glanced at her hus¬ 
band, laughing. 

And he said, mischievously, “You say you will see 
to Jean Paul’s blouse—I don’t know whether that is 
so—but you are seeing to mine pretty sharply, at any 
rate.” She laughed. 

“I have a project in my head,” went on Mme. Bien- 
fait, still laughing. “Just look husband, the sleeves, the 
upper part of the back, the front are all worn out. This 
blouse that you wear is worth nothing, but it will make 
a fine one for Jean Paul.” 

“Then, my wife, this blouse does not belong to me— 
and I am wearing Jean Paul’s blouse. That doesn’t 
seem right. I shall be afraid to wear it. If I take it 
off while I am at dinner, it will be safer. What do you 
say about it, Jean Paul?” He pretended to take off his 
blouse. 


190 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

Jean Paul and Madeleine ran toward him. “Oh! 
father!” “Oh! Monsieur Bienfait!” 

“Well, I will wear it, since you permit me, and thank 
you. Can I wear it a few days longer ? I will promise 
to do all that I can to keep it clean. I will try not to be 
burned or drowned.” 

Mme. Bienfait and Madeleine cried together, “Oh! 
don’t speak of that even in fun!” 

Then they sat down to table and dined gaily. 


Chapter XXV 


The Tuileries. The presentation 

T HE summer had come. There was neither cold, 
nor rain, nor mud now. The air was warm; the 
pavement was white and dusty; and what was seen of 
the sky between the high houses of the faubourg Saint 
Marceau was of a bright blue. 

191 











192 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

When Jean Paul heard them say that the summer 
was here, he made them repeat it—then he sighed. The 
summer for him was large trees bending under their 
weight of leaves and flowers, the sweet-smelling linden 
trees, the grass of the meadows hid under the blue 
flowers of the gentian, and the June sun making the 
snow shine on the high mountains. 

In Mme. Bienfait’s room they did not sew in the 
evening around the table. And there were no more 
reading lessons by the light of the lamp, for Jean Paul 
had learned very quickly. As soon as our friends had 
finished their dinner, they went out to breathe a little 
fresh air. Mme. Bienfait’s room was small, but still 
they were obliged to light the fire to cook the dinner; 
and so our friends, big and little, were nearly stifled 
there, and hurried with their dinner, that they might 
go out the sooner. 

Sometimes, when the weather was fine, they took 
very long walks. They wanted to see the trees dressed 
in their summer attire, to be sure that the earth could 
produce something else besides the high white houses 
of their gloomy faubourg. 

One evening, the heat was stifling. Jean Paul, 
Madeleine, M. and Mme. Bienfait went as far as the 
Tuileries. Madeleine, her father and mother were de¬ 
lighted to sit down under the big chestnut trees. Jean 
Paul would have liked very much to have sat down 
beside them, and to have talked to his dear Madeleine, 
but he had brought his little theatre and his actresses, 
and he wanted to try to give some performances by 
the lights from the shops. He left his friends, prom¬ 
ising them to return soon to join them. 


The Tuileries . The Presentation 193 

“Take notice where we are,” said Madeleine to him. 
“It is the first bench under the trees, beside the large 
reservoir.” 

“Yes, yes,” answered Jean Paul. 

“And you know they shut the gates at ten o’clock,” 
said M. Bienfait in his turn. 

“Oh, I will be back again long before ten o’clock,” 
answered Jean Paul, as he went away. 

Oh! how pleasant it was under those big chestnut 
trees! 

Nevertheless, more than one fine lady passed near 
our friends, and they heard them say that the public 
gardens were odious, that you could breathe nothing 
but dust there; and in a heat like this, the Bois de 
Boulogne was the only supportable place. 

Our three friends had been shut up all day. M. 
Bienfait in the locksmith’s shop, Madeleine at the 
mantua-maker’s, and Mme. Bienfait in her room. They 
had all borne the heat and burden of the day, so the 
rest and recreation seemed to them delicious. The night 
was coming on, a little breeze sprang up, moving the 
leaves, and cooling the foreheads of the child and her 
parents. All three of them were quite happy to be to¬ 
gether, each one happy in seeing the others happy. 
They did not look at the gaily dressed crowd that filled 
the wide walks—they looked at the rose-colored clouds, 
and at the stars which showed themselves gradually as 
the darkness increased. 

“They do their duty,” M. Bienfait was saying to 
himself. “Everything in the world obeys God—sun, 
stars and trees—man alone is disobedient. Oh, my 


194 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

heavenly Father! I want to obey Thee in all things, 
and always.” 

And Mme. Bienfait was saying to herself: 

“How beautiful the world is! How good He is, 
Who has made our place of trial so beautiful! We are 
only birds of passage. Life, it is said, is but a journey 
which leads us to heaven! How good He is Who made 
our pathway so pleasant! And what will Paradise be— 
Our Father’s house!” 

Madeleine was thinking of Escaladios, of Jean 
Paul’s mother, and his little sisters, of whom they were 
talking while walking here. 

But suddenly, “Ran, ran, ran tan plan!” 

“Now we must leave,” said M. Bienfait. 

“What! already?” said Mme. Bienfait. “It is not 
ten o’clock.” 

“There, it is striking now,” said M. Bienfait; “they 
are going to shut the gates.” 

“And Jean Paul!” cried Madeleine. 

“They are shutting up!” cried one of the keepers of 
the garden. 

Everybody had gone out excepting a few persons 
who were belated as they were, and whom the keepers 
drove towards the gates. 

Our friends looked all around them, and tried to see 
through the darkness—no sign of Jean Paul! 

“It is distressing!” said Madeleine. “How will he 
find his way in the dark?” 

“Do not worry yourself,” said M. Bienfait. “Jean 
Paul is more than two years old.” 

At last they passed through the gate. 

“There he is! there he is!” cried Madeleine. 


The Tuileries. The Presentation 


195 


And indeed Jean Paul was there talking to the sentry, 
who would not let him go in. Jean Paul insisted upon 
going in because his friends were waiting for him on 
the bench, near the reservoir; he was beginning to 
be very angry. Fortunately, Madeleine’s arm rubbed 
against his arm; he turned around, recognized his 
friends, and only thought of the joy of finding them 
again. 

“How late you are!” said Madeleine, with a slight 
tone of reproval. 

“It was not my fault; I was not able to come back 
sooner—I will tell you all about it. I am very much 
pleased.” 

Madeleine asked quickly, “Have you made much 
money?” 

“Not a sou.” 

Madeleine was disappointed. “You are not hard to 
please, if you are satisfied!” 

“Listen, listen—you’ll see.” 

“The first thing I want to know, is where you have 
been?” 

Jean Paul said, “I crossed the great place with 
statues-” 

Madeleine interrupted, “The place de la Concorde.” 

Jean Paul went on: “Then it seemed to me it was 
light, very light, a little farther on, at the beginning of 
a wide street-” 

“The rue Royale.” 

“So I went in that direction. There was a large 
shop full of gilded chandeliers all lighted, and it was 
brighter than midday—only what were all these bright 
lights for? There was nobody in the shop, but a 




196 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

woman seated on a kind of throne. This woman must 
have liked to see everything clearly, as she had all this 
lighted up for herself! and then outside on the pave¬ 
ment, there were a great many little round tables, and 
a number of gentlemen, ladies, and even children, 
seated around these tables. All were eating pretty red 
and white things, and drinking sparkling drinks.” 

“In a word, it was a cafe, we know what that is— 
go on.” 

“And then much further on than the pavement, a 
great many handsome carriages were standing! you 
know, Madeleine, those carriages which look like bas¬ 
kets and the ladies in them look as if they were lying 
down.” 

“An open caleche,—go on!” 

“And then, in all these carriages, they ate the same 
pretty red and white things.” 

“Yes, I know—go on, go on.” 

“You may be sure, that when I saw all these people, 
I promised myself a famous harvest! Then I stole in 
quietly, in the midst of these tables and chairs, to find a 
little place for my theatre. But it was not so easy! 
There were a great number of men bareheaded, with 
large white aprons.” 

“The waiters!” said Madeleine, a little impatiently. 

“Then the gentlemen were calling: Waiter, a straw¬ 
berry ice! a decanter of ice water/ and I do not know 
what else. The men with the big white aprons an¬ 
swered bawling: ‘Coming! comingP and they ran over 
the pavement carrying waiters filled with good things. 
They ran so fast that two or three times I was nearly 
knocked over; meanwhile I had made myself as small 


The Tuileries. The Presentation 19 7 

as possible, and had managed to place myself between 
two tables. I was quite near the glass wall of the shop, 
and I saw a handsome lady. Then I opened my little 
theatre. The chandeliers lighted it up brilliantly, it 
was perfect^ 

“Perfect! I should think so—and then?” 

“Wait, you will see. I took my mice out of my little 
bag, and I commenced the performance. But bah! in 
the midst of such a noise, and in such a heat, and with 
so many good things to eat, who could pay attention to 
my lady, to Rosette, and to poor Jean Paul? They 
were talking, screaming, and laughing; nobody saw 
me. Yes, somebody saw me. It was one of the big 
men with white aprons. ‘Wait, you vagabond/ said he 
to me, ‘I am going to show you the way out of here. 
What! you see we have scarcely room to turn here, and 
you come to encumber us with all sorts of nasty beasts, 
beginning with yourself/ He came rapidly towards 
me; fortunately the tables kept him from passing, and 
obliged him to go around them. I hoped to have time 
to run away; suddenly I was seized by the shoulders, 
and shaken so violently, that I thought the theatre, my 
lady and Rosette were on the ground.” 

“Oh! how dreadful!” Madeleine trembled with 
fright. “Go on!” 

“But they let me go. There stood before us a tall 
servant, with a petticoat so long, so long.” 

“Simply, a servant in livery—go on! and this 
servant?” 

“He drew my persecutor towards him by the apron, 
and said, ‘Madame the countess told me to ask you to 
send that child to her/ He pointed to me with his 


198 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

finger. ‘Madame the countess!’ answered the other, 
smiling most charmingly, ‘with the greatest pleasure. 
Enchanted, really! I am going to take him to her my¬ 
self ; come, my child!’ And he took my hand so gently, 
that I looked at him with all my eyes, in order to be 
sure that it was the same waiter who had treated me 
with so much rudeness an instant before. ‘Where is 
Madame the Countess?’ said he. The tall servant in 
the petticoat pointed out to us one of those little car¬ 
riages, you know, Madeleine, that do not look like a 
basket, but are like a very little box.” 

“Yes, yes, I know; I believe they call them 
broughams; that is nothing, go on!” 

“There was a little lady inside of it, very old; but 
very nice. Only think, her hair was as white as my 
lady’s fur, only much longer. It was arranged prettily 
in puffs under her bonnet. My companion bowed 
down to the ground to her: ‘Does Madame the 
Countess desire any refreshment?’ said*he, never leav¬ 
ing off smiling. ‘I hurried to bring this young man, 
that I might obey the order of Madame the Countess. 
As the heat is so great, perhaps Madame will take an 
ice; the strawberry is excellent. Has any one waited 
upon Madame the Countess?’ he cried to the waiters 
who passed. 

“ ‘Thank you, Monsieur Eugene,’ answered a very 
feeble but very sweet voice from the inside of the car¬ 
riage, ‘I will take nothing this evening. My husband 
went into the cafe to order fifty little ices for to¬ 
morrow, and I am waiting for him. I beg you to see 
that they are good, Monsieur Eugene; they are for 


The Tuileries. The Presentation 199 

children. Take care not to put anything in them that 
would hurt them.’ 

“ ‘Do not be uneasy, Madame the Countess/ M. 
Eugene answered, smiling. ‘They shall be perfect, ex¬ 
quisite ; we are always enchanted to have the honor of 
supplying Madame the Countess. Oh! here is Mon¬ 
sieur the Count!’ said he, turning himself around, and 
bowing again to the ground. 

“A tall old man drew near the carriage, leaning on 
his cane. Madeleine, I cannot tell you how it was; he 
made me feel afraid, and at the same time, I should 
have liked to kiss him, he looked so very good. He 
stooped a little, as if, from his goodness, he wanted to 
draw near to you. 

“ ‘I have just written your order myself, my dear/ 
said he to the little lady. ‘You may be easy on that 
subject, it will be well done/ 

“ ‘And I, while I was waiting for you, gave my in¬ 
structions to Monsieur Eugene/ she answered smiling. 

“M. Eugene took advantage of this to relate to them 
I do not know what—that he was going to be the owner 
of the cafe, and he begged the Count not to withdraw 
his patronage, and so on. 

“During this time, my dear old gentleman had got 
into the carriage and was seated alongside of the little 
lady. 

“ ‘Shall we go home now ?’ said he to her. He 
leaned out of the carriage window to give his orders 
to the servant in a petticoat. 

“I was still there wondering why the little lady had 
called me but not daring to speak. 

“ ‘Wait a minute! a minute!’ said she, quickly. ‘A 


200 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

little while ago, while you were in the cafe, I-’ 

Then do you see, Madeleine it was in vain to listen, she 
spoke so low that I heard nothing more. However, I 
did not dare to go away; perhaps she was speaking of 
me. 

“After a few minutes, the gentleman put his head 
out of the carriage door. 

“ ‘Where is the little boy who shows the mice?’ said 
he. 

“ ‘Here I am, my good sir !’ 

“ ‘Very well, my child. Will you come to-morrow 
at eight o’clock with your little mice in their handsomest 

dresses to gain a nice five-franc piece; rue - rue 

-?’ he said to me. How does it happen that I have 

forgotten it?” 

“Now you have spoiled all! you have forgotten it!” 

“Rue— what was it? number ten or six.” 

How frightened Madeleine was now. “Number ten 
or six!” 

Jean Paul said slowly, “It is a street that has not at 
all a funny name. What is it then?” 

“Try and remember.” 

“Rue—ah, the little lady said right, when she said I 
would forget it.” 

“You should have begged her to repeat it to you,” 
said Madeleine in despair. 

“I did not dare to, for all at once, she put on her 
spectacles, and took a little book from her pocket, tore 
a leaf from it and wrote upon it; then she gave it to 
me and the coachman started off.” 

“And have you lost this little paper?” 

“No, no, here it is.” 




The Tuileries. The Presentation 201 

“Why did you not say so?” cried Madeleine in great 
relief. “What difference did it make if you had for¬ 
gotten the address?” 

“How could I read it in the dark? And I thought 
you wanted to know at once where I was to go to¬ 
morrow.” 

“Oh! we will have plenty of time to see that at 
home. But here we are. The story you have told me 
has made the way seem very short.” 

Indeed, they had now arrived before their old house. 
M. and Mme. Bienfait said good evening to Mme. 
Fumeron and her husband, who were taking the air at 
the entrance of the porte-cochere, but Jean Paul did not 
dare to say a word to the good portress. 

In spite of the darkness, he imagined that he saw 
M. Fumeron frowning, and motioning for him to pass 
along quickly. 

“And yet I pay him my rent every two weeks. I 
have never failed to do so,” he said very low to Made¬ 
leine, drawing her into the yard. 

The two children ran quickly up the long staircase; 
Madeleine had the key of her mother’s chamber; she 
opened it quickly, looked for the match-box, took the 
candle, lighted it, and when M. and Mme. Bienfait 
came into the room, she was reading a little paper 
aloud. 

“To-morrow Thursday, at eight o’clock, rue de la 
Paix, No. 15, ask for the Count de Tourlaville.” 

Madeleine and Jean Paul soon explained to the dear 
parents where this precious paper had come from. 
Then they kissed each other and they separated until 
the next day. 


Chapter XXVI 


Jean Paul goes into the fashionable world 

T HE next day Madeleine hurried to return to her 
mother’s. She had asked permission to leave the 
workroom a little earlier than usual, and wanted to 
arrive at home before Jean Paul started. It was a 
little after seven o’clock when, on going up the stairs, 
she met on the second story Jean Paul coming down. 

“Good evening, Madelichon. Oh! how tired you 
look, how red you are!” 

“I was hoping to arrive before you started, my little 
Jean Paul, I believe I have run every step of the way. 
Let me see. How are you dressed?” 

She made him go back a few steps before the win¬ 
dow, that she might examine him. 

“Let me see, have you your white shirt on? your 
new blouse? your nice shoes? very well, let’s see.” She 
hesitated. “Let’s see this dear fat face and these 
hands. White as snow; your hair nicely combed! My 
dear Jean Paul, you are superb! And let us look also at 
the mice. Oh, how it would have amused me to have 
dressed them. Stop, I forgot! I brought you a long 
sash of black silk to put over my lady’s sacque. I 
made it in the workroom, during luncheon time; it is 
the last fashion, you know! There, how nicely it fits 
her, and how well it shows her figure.” 

202 


Jean Paul Goes Into the Fashionable World 203 

“Thank you, darling Madelichon, ,, said Jean Paul, 
“and good-bye, I have only time to take my long walk 
to the rue de la Paix, and to be there at eight o’clock!” 

“You know the way, I hope?” 

“Oh, thank you!” answered he, while going down 
the steps, “your good mother has explained it well to 
me, it was she also who made me put on my new 
blouse, and my white shirt; good-bye, Madeleine! 
How I wish that you could go with me! but your 
mamma says it is impossible.” 

“It would have amused me very much,” said Made¬ 
leine sighing, then she ran lightly up the staircase, cry¬ 
ing out, 

“Good-bye, little Jean Paul, go quickly; good luck!” 
Jean Paul reached the rue de la Paix. He rang at a 
fine large door. The door opened, he entered into a 
magnificent vaulted courtyard, quite filled with flowers. 
The porter’s lodge seemed to him so beautiful, that he 
thought at first the Count de Tourlaville lived there. 
Fortunately our Jean Paul knew how to read, and he 
saw written in golden letters above the glass door of 
this handsome parlor, “Concierge.” He hesitated, 
however, to disturb this fat gentleman whom he saw 
extended full length in a nice armchair, reading the 
newspaper. 

“He is so different from Monsieur Fumeron, that 
he can’t be a porter,” said our friend to himself. 

While Jean Paul was hesitating, some one came in 
by the street door. He was an elegant young man. He 
shut the outside door violently, and ran towards the 
concierge’s lodge, and without paying any attention to 
the reader of the newspaper, he cried out, 


204 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“The Count de Tourlaville, if you please?” 

“On the second floor; the staircase fronts you,” an- * 
swered the fat man, without disturbing himself. 

“Very well,” said Jean Paul, “I have only to follow 
this gentleman, and I shall be sure to arrive directly at 
Monsieur Tourlaville’s rooms.” He crossed the vesti¬ 
bule decorated with flowers, and went up two or three 
steps on the thickest of carpets. 

“How nice this is!” thought he. “So there are stair¬ 
cases with velvet steps. If Madeleine were here!” 

“Well! where are you going?” a rough voice cried 
to him from the bottom of the staircase. 

Jean Paul, lost in admiration, did not even know it 
was to him that this question was addressed. 

“Well, where are you going? You, I mean, you boy 
in the blouse!” cried the voice, still more roughly than 
before, and at the same time, that Jean Paul might 
know that it was to him the man was speaking, a rough 
hand seized hold of him by the arm. 

“I am going to the Count de Tourlaville’s in the 
second story, as this gentleman is doing,” he answered. 

“Yes, indeed! as this gentleman is doing! Then such 
blackguards as you are to use fine staircases and car¬ 
pets! Just look at your feet; the street has just been 
watered, and every step of this little rascal has left a 
mark on the carpet! Get out, you beggar!” 

“But I did not know that this was made not to walk 
upon. I only followed this gentleman,” said Jean Paul. 

“What a stupid little beast you are!” said the con¬ 
cierge. “He does not seem to understand that the 
handsome staircase is made for gentlefolks, and the 
servants’ staircase for him. Go to the end of the yard 


Jean Paul Goes Into the Fashionable World 205 

opposite to you,” he cried, pushing Jean Paul at the 
same time with his strong hand into the yard. 

“There are fine houses, and ugly ones, but the con¬ 
cierges are the same everywhere!” Jean Paul said to 
himself, thinking again of M. Fumeron. 

He felt much more at home on the small staircase, 
a little dirty, and very steep, that the concierge had 
pointed out to him. He felt so much at home, that he 
went up, went up, until he arrived at the sixth story. 

“Why, I am crazy!” he said to himself, as he found 
himself opposite a very dirty closet, the door of which 
was wide open. “I thought I was at home. It is to 
the second story that I am to go; how am I to know it 
again? That will be very hard to do in going down. 
I had better go quite down to the bottom of the stair¬ 
case, and then go up again attentively.” 

Our little friend did this. He went down the six 
stories, then ran up two; fortunately he was not very 
heavy and he remembered the proverb, “Use your head 
to save your heels.” 

Quite out of breath, he knocked at a little door. It 
was opened for him. He went into the kitchen, but he 
had not time to look about him. They seemed to ex¬ 
pect him. He had hardly said “The Count de Tourla- 
ville,” when a servant beckoned him to follow him; 
which Jean Paul obeyed. 

“This way, this way,” said the servant, while cross¬ 
ing the large kitchen, and then a long entry. 

He opened a door, made Jean Paul go before him, 
and then shut it. 

He had scarcely entered, when he was obliged to lean 
against the wall, and put his hands before his dazzled 


206 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

eyes. He was in a large saloon all covered with gold, 
filled with chandeliers, and lighted with wax candles. 
, He heard lively and joyous music, and he saw through 
his fingers a crowd of children, who were dancing to 
the sound of it. It seemed to Jean Paul as if he were 
dreaming. It seemed to him that he was in fairyland, 
when he saw all these little curly heads, all these little 
embroidered skirts turning round, and the long ribbons 
which floated in the air, all those sturdy little legs, and 
little feet which moved in time or out of time, but 
above all, those dear little faces, those little open 
mouths, those laughs which made music of another 
kind but still sweeter. All this was for him a fairy 
world. 

Meanwhile, the music stopped; the little army of 
dancers were broken up. They could be seen going, 
coming, swarming in different parts of the saloon. 
Some of the children came near Jean Paul and looked 
at him silently. Our poor friend did not dare to move; 
he was quite abashed; he felt that he was blushing like 
a peony; his eyes were still covered with his hands; he 
felt that they were looking at him, that everybody was 
looking at him; he was ready to cry. He would have 
liked to hide himself under the table, in the chimney 
place or anywhere. 

“Well! where is he ?” said a voice mildly and quietly, 
and which Jean Paul thought he recognized. “I gave 
orders that he was to come to my son’s room, and I 
was told that he was in the saloon. Ah! there he is, 
my little friend.” 

Jean Paul, still looking through his fingers, saw 


Jean Paul Goes Into the Fashionable World 207 

approaching the good gentleman that he had seen the 
night before. 

“Make room!” said he, dispersing the children who 
surrounded Jean Paul. “Make room for grandfather!” 

“Grandfather,” said the fattest, the freshest, and the 
curliest of the little boys of five years of age, “grand¬ 
father, are we to have the surprise now?” 

“Yes, if you are very good, if you all go to the other 
end of the drawing-room, and turn your backs, do you 
hear? Run off! go!” 

All the little feet began to run, and soon nothing 
could be seen but little dimpled backs, little rosy calves, 
and little heels stamping impatiently. 

In the meantime, the old gentleman had first chucked 
Jean Paul under the chin, then softly removed his hand 
from his eyes. 

“Do not be afraid, my child,” said he to him. “We 
are very glad to see you here, and we are sure that 
you will amuse us very much.” 

“Yes, yes,” said the little lady, who also came near 
Jean Paul. “His little animals are wonderful. Do 
not be afraid, my friend, and in a few moments you 
will hear cries of admiration from these dear children.” 

These kind words reassured Jean Paul a little. He 
stooped down behind the good little lady and took his 
little actresses from his bag; then he placed them on 
the large card table in the middle of the room, which 
the old gentleman had just told them to open. 

“Now you can come back, children, and place your¬ 
selves around the table, the smallest in front,” said the 
good grandfather. 


208 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

What a performance! what a success, what applause, 
what a stamping of feet amongst the lookers-on! The 
mothers and fathers, although not so demonstrative as 
the little ones, were very much amused. 

Suddenly, without any one noticing him, the good 
papa rang the bell near the fireplace, then said a word 
in Jean Paul’s ear. 

“Hop! hop!” said Jean Paul. 

Then the little mice ran into his arms, and after¬ 
wards hid themselves in their bag. 

“Ah-ah-ah!” All the little mouths gave one cry of 
regret. 

But just at that instant, the door opened and a great 
many servants came in, carrying trays filled with little 
plates. Each one seemed to contain a small fruit—it 
was ice cream. 

“Oh! father, you are always the same, always too 
good,” said a young man who approached the old 
gentleman. 

“Yes,” added a young lady, taking him by his hand, 
“my dear father-in-law knows how to make children 
happy. I had promised these little monkeys only cake 
and syrup, and here we have a grand entertainment, 
thanks to you, dear father—and dear mother,” she 
added, taking the hand of the old lady. 

“Ah!” answered the grandfather, “the ices were my 
idea, but the mice were your mother’s thought; you 
must give her the credit of it.” 

The good grandmother smiled, then she chose a 
pretty rose-colored ice and gave it to Jean Paul, who 
was standing modestly in a corner of the room. 



WHAT A PERFORMANCE? 


209 
































































Jean Paul Goes Into the Fashionable World 211 

“Well!” said she, after a moment’s silence, “you do 
not eat your ice—it will melt.” 

“This will melt, then?” cried our friend. “And I 
wanted to keep it for Madeleine!” 

He had to eat it; and we must confess that Jean 
Paul, who at first thought that it burned him, found 
it delicious. 

Meanwhile all the little plates were empty; the 
mammas had wiped all the little mouths, and had sighed 
on seeing that more than one dress had been stained 
by the pretty ices. The old gentleman approached Jean 
Paul, and again whispered in his ear. 

“Certainly, Monsieur,” answered our friend. 

And then a second performance began, which suc¬ 
ceeded as well as the first, and was received with the 
same applause. The mice were at their last dance; but 
before Jean Paul had time to say, “Hop! hop!” and 
they to jump into his arms, the music began, and a 
pretty polka was played. Then the card table was 
folded and taken away as if by enchantment, and all 
the little children commenced dancing, jumping, and 
turning round. 

The Count de Tourlaville took Jean Paul to the door 
of the drawing-room which led into the dining-room. 

“Take care of this child,” said he to the servant, who 
was there. “Give him a piece of brioche and a glass of 
syrup before he goes away.” 

Then stooping to Jean Paul, he said: “Here, my 
friend, this is what I promised you; your little animals 
are charming; you have amused the children very 
much.” 

Then he put a five-franc piece in his hand. 


212 Lady Green Satin*and Her Maid Rosette 

Jean Paul thanked the good gentleman, thanked the 
servant, and stood up near the round table to eat his 
brioche and drink his syrup. 

Suddenly, he heard some one call. 

“Constant! Constant! the Count is calling you to 
bring more ices.” 

“Coming! I’m coming!” said the servant, and ran 
out of the dining-room. 

Jean Paul was not alone: a little man five years old, 
had glided into the room and stood up before him with¬ 
out speaking. Jean Paul recognized the grandson of 
the Count by his large hazel eyes, and his fair curling 
hair, which hid his neck and a part of his face. The 
child remained there standing motionless, his head bent, 
and his large eyes raised to Jean Paul. 

Suddenly he shook back his curls, and raised his 
head. 

“Give me the little mouse,” he said in a firm voice. 

“What do you say, my little sir?” answered Jean 
Paul, who thought he had not understood him. 

“I said give — me — the — little — mouse” 

“Oh! impossible, my little gentleman,” said Jean 
Paul, laughing. 

“Yes, the one with the red dress; I will have it! I 
say I will!” 

“Oh my little gentleman, really I cannot give it to 
you. I gain my own and my mother’s livelihood by 
showing her.” 

“Oh, yes you can,” answered the child, shaking his 
curls again from his face. “I’ll explain it to you; you 
see to-day is my birthday. You understand? Every¬ 
body gives me anything I want; you see, grandpa has 


Jean Paul Goes Into the Fashionable World 213 

given me a surprise; grandma, ice cream; and mamma 
has made all my little friends come here in their pretty 
white dresses. You understand. I tell you, give me 
that little white mouse, my lady.” 

He held out his little hand, and seeing that Jean Paul 
only answered by turning away his head, 

“Come,” said he, stamping his little foot on the floor, 
“you don’t understand then. You know very well that 
they never refuse anything to children on their birth¬ 
day.” 

“Ah! dear little gentleman!” answered Jean Paul, 
sighing, “there are a great many little children who 
have no birthday celebration at all.” 

“Oh that is not true! You say that only so as not to 
give the mouse! But I, I know what I say is true. 
All little children have their birthdays. I know it well 
and all the little children do not have their birthdays 
to-day.” And he began to smile. “Give me the mouse, 
I beg you. But you, when does your birthday come? 
Tell me.” 

Jean Paul said sadly. “My birthday! mine! Oh, 
dear little sir, I have never had my birthday celebrated.” 

The child was astonished. “Why? But that is not 
possible! What is your name then? But then you 
have no name!” 

“My name is Jean Paul.” 

“Jean Paul!” He clapped his little hands. “Oh! 
but this is your birthday, if your name is Jean. This 
is Saint Jean’s day.” He jumped. “I know very well 
that this is Saint Jean’s day, it comes in the month of 
June. Tell me what you have had given to you. Tell 
me all! all!” 


214 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

Jean Paul smiled. “Oh! but you see I have no good 
grandfather or grandmother to celebrate my birthday— 
my father’s dead, and my mother is so poor that I send 
her all the money I make in showing my mice.” 

The little Jean spoke very sadly: “Then no one has 
given you anything on your birthday; you have had 
no presents or pretty playthings. I’m very sorry; I 
thought that-” 

Jean Paul interrupted him: “You see now, my 
little gentleman, that I cannot give you my little 
mouse.” 

The little boy held his head down, and seemed to be 
thinking. 

“Listen. Do you see, this is not fair! I have had 
for my birthday—oh, let me tell you: a box of choco¬ 
late, then a handsome horse, then money, then a whip, 
and then ices. I don’t know what besides. You have 
had nothing at all! Do you see, that is not fair! I 
know what I will do: we must divide all between us. 
Since you are called Jean it is your birthday too.” He 
moved forward into the dining-room. “But what shall 
I do? All my gifts are in mamma’s room, and it is so 
dark there, Pm afraid to go there. You come with 
me.” 

“Thank you, my dear little gentleman, I do not want 
anything. If I only knew the way out!” Jean Paul 
went towards the door of the ante-chamber. The little 
Jean came to him and took hold of him. 

“I want you to have some gifts for your birthday, 
Jean Paul.” He searched in his pocket. “Oh, how 
lucky! Oh! here is my little box of chocolate; it is for 
you, and then my purse. You must take all the money 



Jean Paul Goes Into the Fashionable World 215 

that is in it. This way.” He counted on his fingers. 
“I have the horse, and then the whip, and then you have 
the chocolate and the money. That is very well, isn’t 
it?” He jumped with joy. 

“But I will not take your little purse, nor your 
sugarplums,” said Jean Paul. 

The little Jean put the box of chocolate upon the 
table, opened it and put the purse in it. He raised 
himself on tiptoe, and pressed his little dimpled hands 
with all his strength on the cover of the box to shut it, 
then he put the box in Jean Paul’s hands. 

“I beg you to take it,” said he, “it would make me 
very sorry, if you didn’t. I beg you to take it.” 

The servant came back; Jean Paul wanted to explain 
it all to him, but the dear little fellow began to cry, and 
pulled Jean Paul towards the ante-chamber. 

“I want him to go; I want him to go away at once,” 
cried he, knowing very well that when Jean Paul had 
started he would not be able to return the box to any 
one. “Constant, make him go out, the bad boy, he has 
made me cry on my birthday.” 

“Who has made my dear little gentleman cry on his 
birthday?” said Constant, taking the child in his arms. 
“Yes, yes, we will both make him go away, the naughty 
fellow! away with you, sir.” 

Indeed, both of them opened the door and gently 
pushed Jean Paul out on the staircase, and he could 
neither make himself heard nor give one word of ex¬ 
planation. The little boy made so much noise, Jean 
Paul’s voice could not be heard. 


Chapter XXVII 


Jean Paul makes a present 

T N the meanwhile, Jean Paul had gone down a few 
-*■ steps—then he stopped, and reflected. 

“What is to be done,” he said to himself. “I will 
not, I ought not to take these sugarplums and this 
money from this dear little boy; no one has given him 
permission to give them to me. What is to be done? 
I will ring, and give back the box to the servant who 
opens the door for me. But if it should be Constant, 
and if the little Jean should be still there! No, it would 
be better for me to go down, and explain how it hap¬ 
pened to the concierge, and leave the box with him; 
to-morrow he will give it back. Go down! ah! I am 
now on the horrid staircase of velvet, which was not 
made for me! What is to be done? I hear the con¬ 
cierge’s voice, he is coming up—where shall I hide?” 

Our friend had noticed alongside of him, in an arch 
of the window, a large china vase which contained one 
of those beautiful shrubs, with thick and glossy leaves. 
He slipped quickly behind it. 

He was just in time! The big concierge had come 
there to attend to the gas, and was quite near Jean Paul. 

At last, it is done; the concierge went down. Jean 
Paul breathed again, he listened, he heard the door 
shutting at the bottom of the staircase. He thought he 
would be able to come out of his hiding place, and he 
determined to ring at M. Tourlaville’s door. 

216 


Jean Paul Makes a Present 


217 


But he had hardly left his hiding place when he went 
back to it quickly. He heard a door open, then a sound 
of voices, and of good-byes, and of kisses, and laughs, 
and then again more good-byes, and at last the door was 
shut. 

Jean Paul saw two persons coming down the stair¬ 
case slowly. They took hold of the balustrade, and 
were coming near him. In front was. a little old lady, 
and behind her—behind her—Yes! it was the good 
grandfather. Jean Paul is sure of it, he has recognized 
him. 

So, the moment the old gentleman was going to pass 
by the shrub, Jean Paul ran out to meet him. 

“Oh! if you please, monsieur—” said he. 

The grandfather started—he was quite shaken by 
this sudden apparition. 

“What is it? What is the matter?” said he, starting 
back a few steps. “Ah! it is the little mouse-boy! 
What do you want, my child ?” added he, frowning. 
“Are you not satisfied with your evening ?” 

“My good sir, I want nothing; on the contrary, I 
want to give this back to you.” 

And he held out to him the little box of chocolate, 
and the little purse which was partly out of it. 

“Why, it is the little blue purse that I gave Jean to¬ 
day !” cried the lady, who had come near them. “How 
did it get into your hands?” 

“Unfortunate child!” cried the grandfather, sighing 
deeply, and taking the box and the purse from Jean 
Paul’s hands. “You have then—found it? Where? 
how?” 

“Dear good monsieur, I have neither stolen nor 


218 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

found it,” said Jean Paul, ready to cry, “it was your 
dear little boy who would positively give it to me, be¬ 
cause he insisted that it was my birthday.” 

And Jean Paul related to the grandparents all that 
the child had said to him, and that after he had given 
him his purse, and his bonbons, the little man had 
pushed him out of the door to be quite sure that he 
would carry them away with him. 

“But, dear monsieur,” said Jean Paul, when he had 
finished, “I would not take advantage of the goodness 
of heart of this dear little fellow to rob him. To¬ 
morrow, please give him back his money and bonbons, 
and tell his father and mother that he is good as an 
angel.” 

The old gentleman and lady did not answer; they 
drew near to each other, and took each other’s hands. 
Jean Paul saw the two clasped hands tremble, and he 
did not dare to break the silence. 

At last the old gentleman said in a low voice, “You 
are an honest boy, my child.” 

Then he put the purse and box in his hand. 

“Keep them,” said he. “God forbid that I should 
undo the good action of my little grandson! No, I will 
never give him back this purse, or these bonbons, and 
I will never even speak to him of them; I wish that his 
first good act may remain a secret between him and 
the good God. O God, I thank Thee; make him love 
more and more every day those who suffer!” 

The good grandfather was silent; Jean Paul thought 
he was praying. 

“My boy,” the little lady suddenly said in an agi¬ 
tated voice, “will you make me a present?” 


Jean Paul Makes a Present 219 

“Oh! madame, with all my heart!” answered Jean 
Paul. 

“Well, keep the money which is in the purse that 
Jean forced you to take, and give me the empty purse; 
it will be a souvenir of the first good act of my grand¬ 
son. Put your money into this sugarplum box, so that 
you may not lose it.” 

She took from her pocket quite a small box that she 
gave to Jean Paul. He emptied the blue porte-monnaie 
into it, and handed it to the old lady, who kissed it, and 
held it in her hand. 

“Thank you, my child!” said she to him. “You have 
made us very happy. Be all your life an honest man.” 

The three went down together, Jean Paul following 
the two old people. Jean Paul had no fear, he felt he 
was protected. They crossed the vestibule silently. 
But when the porte-cochere was shut behind him, Jean 
Paul turned towards the house. 

“Thank you, dear little Monsieur Jean,” cried he 
with all his might, “you ought to know at least that 
Jean Paul is grateful.” 

“Thank you, Monsieur Grandpapa, and Madame 
Grandmamma, you are all good people!” cried he 
again, on seeing the little carriage go away, which the 
Count and Countess had just got into. 

Then our friend Jean Paul danced a mountain dance 
on the pavement, as if to give vent to the joy that had 
nearly stifled him. The passers-by began to assemble 
around him, so he took to his heels and ran home. 

An hour afterwards, lying on his bundle of straw, 
he fell asleep smiling. 



Chapter XXVIII 
Other gifts from Jean Paul 

T HE next morning at Mme. Bienfait’s they spoke 
only of little Jean. 

Jean Paul came early into his friend’s room, and put 
on the table the box of chocolate, the sugarplum box, 
and the five-franc piece. 

“Look, Madelichon, I brought all this back last 
evening,” said he. 

“Let me see them,” said Madeleine, running to the 
table. “First of all, a nice five-franc piece for your 
mother; that is the best.” 

“No, it isn’t,” said Jean Paul, laughing. 

“Next,” continued Madeleine, as she opened the box, 
“some chocolate sugarplums. Look! Look! Why, 
this is very nice, Monsieur Jean Paul.” 

“Go on still,” said Jean Paul. 

“And,” continued the little girl, opening with great 
care the sugarplum box, “real gold pieces—one of ten 
francs, and two of five francs.” 

“Is it possible? So much as that?” cried Jean Paul. 
“What good luck! 

“You did not know then what was in the little box?” 
asked Madeleine. 

“I knew very well that there was money in it, but 
as I always do, I wanted you to have the pleasure of 
220 


Other Gifts from Jean Paid 221 

counting it the first, Mademoiselle Madeleine. And 
how much does that make?” 

“Five and five make ten, and then ten make twenty, 
and that, with the big piece, will make twenty-five 
francs for your mother!” cried Madeleine. 

“Are vou quite sure? so much as that?” asked Jean 
Paul. 

“Yes, ask mamma if it isn’t so,” said Madeleine. 
“But who has given you all this money?” 

“Come to breakfast,” said Mme. Bienfait, “the 
coffee and milk are hot.” 

While eating, Jean Paul told them all that had hap¬ 
pened the night before. Madeleine listened so at¬ 
tentively, that she forgot to eat her breakfast. When 
Jean Paul told them how the little Jean had insisted 
upon his giving him the lady mouse: 

“You did not give it to him, I hope?” cried Made¬ 
leine. “That little Jean is a real spoiled child. To ask 
you for my lady!” 

“Do not be afraid, Madeleine; my lady is sleeping 
peacefully in my room,” answered Jean Paul. “But 
wait a little while before you judge my little Jean. 
You shall soon know more about him.” 

And Jean Paul went on with his story. 

“Well,” said he, when he had done, “is my little Jean 
spoiled?” 

“A little—for all that,” answered Madeleine, smiling. 

“Come,” began Mme. Bienfait, who saw that Jean 
Paul was quite sad at hearing his benefactor spoken 
of in this way, “if they spoil this dear child a little, it 
it because he is so good, and they love him so much.” 

“That’s it,” said Jean Paul, “and now let us make 


222 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

a division; this pretty little sugarplum box is for you, 
Madame Bienfait, the box of chocolate is for you, 
Madeleine, and the twenty-five francs are for my 
mother.” 

“And my father, he has nothing!” said Madeleine. 
“Jean Paul, my friend, this is not fair, as little Jean 
would say. You must go back and take some more 
lessons from him. I am going to show you how to 
be fair.” 

She took from the bureau an old copy book, tore two 
leaves from it, made two cornucopias in which she 
emptied all the pastilles of chocolate, then shut the 
empty box. 

“Now, Monsieur Jean Paul, begin your distribution 
again, if you please. The sugarplum box for mamma, 
that’s well; the beautiful white and gold box for father, 
who can put his pens, wafers, and all sorts of things in 
it; a cornucopia for Madeleine, and one for Jean Paul. 
And now I have taught you how to make a fair 
division.” 

Jean Paul wanted her to take the two cornucopias, 
but she positively refused. He revenged himself upon 
her, by opening his, and making all his friends eat his 
sugarplums. 

It was raining; a heavy June rain. M. Bienfait and 
Madeleine, protected by their umbrellas, went to their 
workshops. Jean Paul took his pen, and commenced 
writing to his mother. Oh! what joy to have such a 
large sum of money to send to her! 

When the letter was finished and folded, he took it 
to Mme. Bienfait, and begged her to write the address, 
that it might be more easily read; then he asked her 


Other Gifts from Jean Paul 223 

where the post-office was. Mme. Bienfait told him 
the nearest one, and advised him not to put either the 
money or the letter in the letter box but to go into the 
post-office and give it to one of the clerks. 

Jean Paul set off; very glad to spare his good friend 
M. Bienfait the trouble of posting his letter. 

“When we know how to read and write, we can at¬ 
tend to our own affairs without annoying our friends/’ 
said he to himself. And indeed Jean Paul executed 
this little affair very well; the letter and money reached 
his mother very safely, for a few days after, when he 
came home to dine with his friends, Madeleine threw 
her arms around his neck, and said, 

“A letter, Jean Paul, a letter for you! It was I who 
brought it! Mamma was going to open it, but we saw 
that the address was ‘Madame Bienfait, for Jean Paul.’ 
Then we waited. Look! here it is!” 

Jean Paul took the letter, and kissed it so hard and 
so often, that it was all rumpled. 

“It must be from my mother,” said he, and he kissed 
it again. 

Then he tried to read the address, but he could not 
yet read handwriting very well. 

“Then you don’t want to know what’s inside? Let 
us see! do open it!” said Madeleine. 

Jean Paul tried to loosen the wafer. 

“I am afraid of tearing it,” said he to Madeleine. 
“Open it yourself, and read it to me.” 

“Let us make haste, then,” said Madeleine. “Father 
will soon be home to dinner.” 

She sat down upon a chair near the open window, 
and Jean Paul sat down upon a stool at her feet. 


224 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 
“How happy I am!” he said. 

“You might say, how happy we all are!” replied 
Madeleine. “I am as glad as you are, I am sure.” 
And she began to read aloud. 


Chapter XXIX 


News from his own country and plans for the future 

T TIS mother began by thanking Jean Paul for the 
three letters he had written to her, and for all 
the money that he had sent her. She was very much 
astonished that her dear child had been able to earn so 
much. She feared that he had deprived himself of 
everything, in order to send her such large sums of 
money. She had not been able to write to him sooner, 
as all his little sisters had been sick one after the other. 
What would have become of them or of his mother, 
without the money from her good boy? For his mother 
had not been able to work much during the winter. 

But now, all was going on well at Escaladios, said 
she. His little sisters were in perfect health, and M. 
Legras, who had come very often to the little house 
since Jean Paul had left, had taken a fancy to Louise. 
He had seen her take such good care of her little sister 
Marie, that he had asked her mother to let her come 
and help his wife to take care of their new-born babe; 
so that Louise was fed, clothed, and provided for in 
every way by Mme. Legras, and indeed was treated 
exactly as if she were her own child. 

His mother told him also that his father’s sister, 
a skilful mantua-maker at Bagneres-de-Bigorre, had 
come to pscaladios to see them, and that she had ad- 
225 


226 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

vised them very earnestly to come and work with her 
at Bagneres, where they had so much work during the 
bathing season. 

“It is two days since we came to Bagneres,” wrote 
his mother. “Your aunt is so kind to us, that although 
her house is very small, she has found room for us in 
it. You sisters and I sleep together in a very clean 
garret. In summer one can lodge very well anywhere. 
Angele begins to work very nicely, and helps us very 
much. She sews and hems beautifully. The two 
children have gone to the Asylum, where they pass the 
day, and are learning to read. 

“I could hardly make up my mind to go to Bagneres; 
my dear child, your aunt pressed us very much to go, 
and even offered to pay our expenses, but I still hesi¬ 
tated, for you must know, my dear boy, your sisters 
and I were so poorly clothed, our dresses and shoes 
so worn out, that I dared not start for fear your aunt 
would be ashamed of us. And then, my darling boy, 
your letter and the twenty-five francs came! I ran 
quickly to M. Perrin’s the merchant, and I bought— 
pay attention, I am going to tell you all that you have 
given us, my good and darling boy. 

“I bought a good calico dress for Alice, the same for 
Angele, a large apron with sleeves for little Marie, 
three little white bonnets, three good pairs of shoes for 
their little feet, and I bought for myself a calico dress 
and a pair of shoes. 

“Then I wrote at once to your aunt, that we intended 
to come. Angele and I worked so hard, that the 
dresses and apron were done in four days, so that we 
were able to wear them while travelling. 


News from His Own Country 227 

“Be happy, my son, in thinking of all the good you 
have done us. 

“But you, my dear boy, how are you clothed? You 
must want new clothes very much! Dear Jean Paul, 
do not send us any more money; you see we are almost 
rich—Louisa is provided for, and Angele and I have 
work. The prices for work are very good now at 
Bagneres; I hope to take back with me to Escaladios 
enough to live on all the winter. Keep for yourself all 
that you make. Give it to the mamma that the good 
God has sent you in Paris, and use it as she tells you 
to do. Your little sisters send you many kisses. They 
would like also to send a kiss to my lady and Rosette. 
Good-bye, my beloved child, I love you so much, and 
I pray that the good God may protect you. 

“P.S. How well you write, Jean Paul! Thanks to 
your little teacher Madeleine: tell her, my child, as well 
as her father and mother, that we name them every 
day in our evening prayer, and ask God to be as good 
to them as they have been to you. Love them well! 
love them well! ,, 

“Love them!” said Jean Paul, his eyes full of tears. 
“As for love, that rs not wanting.” 

While Madeleine was reading it, M. Bienfait had 
come in, and had seated himself silently. 

“Why, this is famous!” said he suddenly, appar¬ 
ently roused from a profound meditation. “So, Jean 
Paul, your mother does not stand in need of what you 
earn! What do you think? It is a week since our 
apprentice left the workshop; and a week ago I said 
to myself that Jean Paul might take his place. It is 
a good house, and I shall be there to teach him our 


228 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

trade. In three years he would be a good workman, 
and earn good wages. He is large and strong. Now 
tell me, Jean Paul/’ added he, turning towards our 
friend, “will you be a locksmith? Would you like 
that trade, tell me?” 

“Formerly—” said our friend, who blushed up to 
his ears, and hesitated- 

“Say what you think, do not be afraid,” answered 
M. Bienfait, laughing. 

“Formerly—I did not like that trade at all—because 
it makes one always so black—and the great heat!” 

“And now?” asked M. Bienfait. 

“Oh! now,” said Jean Paul, who smiled and looked 
at his friend, “since I have known you, Monsieur Bien¬ 
fait, I would like to be the same as you are.” 

“You are a nice boy,” said M. Bienfait, laughing, 
and drawing the child to him. 

“I just said to myself,” continued he, turning to his 
wife, “that Jean Paul might continue to exhibit his 
mice after dinner. In the summer he could go to the 
public walks, and the cafes, in the winter he could show 
them in the streets; after awhile he would be known 
in the best parts of the town, and they would make him 
go into their houses to amuse the children, as they do 
with the man who has the magic lantern. He could 
carry a little bell to let people know when he was pass¬ 
ing; I believe in this way he could earn plenty of 
money, and at the same time pass his days usefully in 
the workshop.” 

“Well, my friend,” said Mme. Bienfait, after a mo¬ 
ment’s silence, “you might ask your employer at the 
same time, if Jean Paul could not have every Thursday 




“i HAVE FORGOTTEN MY BEANS!” 


229 



































y 





News from His Own Country 231 

afternoon. He must go next winter with Madeleine to 
learn his Catechism, that he may be prepared for his 
first Communion. Madeleine’s mistress has made this 
agreement.” 

“Oh! Madeleine’s mistress!” interrupted M, Bien- 
fait, smiling. “Madeleine should not have any other 
mistress than her dear little mamma, who sews like a 
fairy.” 

“Yes, but who for ten years that she has lived in her 
room, knows nothing of the fashions,” interrupted 
Mme. Bienfait in her turn. “Well, you will ask, won’t 
you, if Jean Paul may be free on Thursday?” 

“Our master will grant that, he is a good man. Now, 
Jean Paul,” added he, “let it be understood that every 
evening when the weather will not permit you to go 
out with your mice, you will read and write at home, 
and that every Sunday I will give you a lesson, as I do 
to Madeleine. This will be, I hope, a well regulated 
life! you will have time neither to idle nor to be dull.” 

A frightful smell of burning, and a thick smoke, 
filled the room. 

“I am really crazy! I have forgotten my beans! 
They won’t be fit to eat,” cried Mme. Bienfait, running 
to the chimney place and taking the saucepan quickly 
from the fire. 

“Bah! my wife, we are all to blame,” said M. Bien¬ 
fait; “while speaking of Jean Paul, we have forgotten 
the dinner.” , . -yy \ 

“I will put a little water in them, and a piece of 
butter, and I hope they may be eatable,” said Mme. 
Bienfait. “I am very sorry; it is unpardonable at my 
age to be so giddy.” 


232 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“It was not giddiness, it was because you are too 
good,” said Jean Paul. 

They sat down to dinner. The soup was like glue, 
and so thick that the spoon stood up in the plate. 

M. Bienfait made little signs to Madeleine when 
Mme. Bienfait’s back was turned, and the father and 
daughter laughed very quietly. 

The meat was all dried up. M. Bienfait pretended 
not to be able to eat it. Poor Mme. Bienfait sighed, 
and asked their pardon. Madeleine laughed in her 
sleeve and winked at her father; as for Jean Paul, he 
ate and made no remark. He seemed buried in deep 
thought. 

At last the famous beans came. It was then twilight. 
Mme. Bienfait gave some of them to each. 

“Oh! this, this is too much,” cried M. Bienfait. 
“Wife, I cannot stand this, they are like coal!” 

Madeleine now burst out laughing. 

“No, no,” said Mme. Bienfait, scolding a little, “it is 
only an idea that you two have; they are a little burnt, 
but they are still very good. I am sure of it. Let me 
see!” She put her fork to her lips. “Why, they are 
disgusting!” cried she. “What a horrid taste!” 

“Wife,” said M. Bienfait, “I want a light, that we 
may be able to see these delicious vegetables. I think 
that you have made a mistake, and that you have 
fricasseed flannel.” Madeleine got up and brought a 
lighted candle. “Here! look, wife, they are black as 
ink; you wanted to poison us.” 

Madeleine brought her plate to the light. 

“Mine are blacker than yours and mamma's; but you 
see they have still the shape of beans; therefore it is 


233 


News from His Own Country 

very certain that mamma has not put coal in the sauce¬ 
pan.” She laughed. “Jean Paul, give me your plate, 
that I may see yours.” 

'‘Thank you, Madeleine,” said Jean Paul absently. 

“Thank me for what?” cried Madeleine in surprise. 

Jean Paul answered still absently. “Thank you, I 
have enough; they are very good. I am no longer 
hungry.” 

“Very good! what?” 

“The—the things—the beans.” 

Madeleine looked in Jean Paul’s plate. “Papa! 
mamma! he has eaten them all.” She roared ou* laugh¬ 
ing. “Well then, Jean Paul, you found the beans 
good?” she shook him by the arm. 

“Yes, everything is good at Mamma Bienfait’s.” 

“You did not notice that they were horribly burnt?” 

“I do not know.” 

Madeleine said, laughing more and more, “You did 
not notice that they were all black?” 

“I do not know—but I thought there were some 
beans as black as those.” 

“And he has eaten them all! all, or a great part of 
them! Well, mamma, you can say that Jean Paul has 
great confidence in you.” 

But Jean Paul said, seriously, “Mamma Bienf ait, if 
I show my mice every day, and all the night, I shall 
make a great deal of money, and I will make you rich.” 

Madeleine was still laughing. “Let us see, Jean 
Paul—is it all the days or all the nights that you want 
to show them? We want to know that?” 

But good Mme. Bienfait would not let this continue. 
“We understand very well what he says; do not tease 


234 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

him, Madeleine. My good Jean Paul, all the money 
that you make will be kept for yourself, I promise you. 
I will not have one sou more than the six sous daily 
for your food.” 

Jean Paul cried. “But how then shall I be able to 
make you some return for your kindness to me? Oh! 
I see now! it is not with money that I can thank you. 
I must be so pleasant, so nice, and so good.” 

M. Bienfait held out his hand to him. “Remain as 
you are, my child!” 

“But when we have beans like those we had this 
evening, do not feel obliged to eat them,” said 
Madeleine. 

“I hope you will never see any like them again,” 
said Mme. Bienfait. “It may pass for once.” 

“And once is too often,” said M. Bienfait, looking 
roguishly at his wife. 


Chapter XXX 


Monsieur Fumeron has his staircase washed by proxy 

TX7“INTER had come, and with the winter rain, cold, 
* * and short days. 

It seemed to our friend Jean Paul that the summer 
was scarcely over, he had been so much occupied. M. 
Bienfait's employer had been engaged to do all the lock¬ 
smith's work of a magnificent new house, and it wa9 
M. Bienfait who put the hinges, the gilded locks, upon 
the doors, the hooks for the curtains, and so on. Jean 
Paul always went with him. In the street, he carried 
the leather bag filled with tools; no one would have 
recognized in this little boy, so clean, so carefully 
clothed, and who walked so rapidly, the poor little Jean 
Paul who arrived at Paris the year before, without 
occupation, half starved, and in rags. While M. Bien¬ 
fait worked, Jean Paul held his tools for him, or ran 
back to the shop to bring those he had forgotten. He 
had looked so much at his friend while he was working 
that he thought he would be able himself to put the 
gilded locks upon the doors, and he was crazy to try. 

“That will come bye and bye," M. Bienfait told him. 

And indeed Jean Paul was permitted to put a lock 
on the door of the entry. 

“Very well done!" said M. Bienfait, who saw him 
do it. 


235 


236 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

Thursday at one o’clock, Jean Paul came in as usual 
to wash and change his blouse, before going to his 
Catechism. His heart was very light, when he came 
down the long staircase; he knew his Catechism very 
well; he had even learnt the portion of the Testament 
that was to be read next Sunday. 

“I shall be there too soon,” said he to himself, when 
he heard the clock strike, “but no, never too soon.” 
He smiled. “I will go over my lesson again in the 
church, and then as soon as the chapel is opened I will 
go in. I shall be the first. I feel so happy in that dear 
chapel. Last Thursday when the clergyman repeated 
to us those words of the dear Jesus, 'Love your ene¬ 
mies,’ I could have almost wished to have had a very 
wicked enemy, an enemy who had done me a great deal 
of harm, that I might pardon him immediately, and 
with all my heart. But I have no enemy, at the work¬ 
shop all are so good to me!” 

Jean Paul, while thinking over these things, had 
reached the foot of the staircase, and was going 
through the yard—at least his body, for his mind was 
with the Catechism. So he did not see M. Fumeron, 
who was standing at the open window of his lodge, 
and was making motions to him with his hands and 
arms. M. Fumeron had a broom in one hand, and in 
the other a dustbrush of feathers, and was moving 
them about as a telegraph to attract Jean Paul’s 
attention. 

It was useless; Jean Paul’s thoughts were with the 
Catechism, he saw nothing. 

M. Fumeron leaned out of the window and said in a 
very low voice, “My dear little friend.” 


Monsieur Fumeron FI as His Staircase Washed 23 7 

J ean Paul did not hear him; and went on his way. 

“My dear little friend, my dear Jean Paul!” M. 
Fumeron repeated in a low voice, but doing all he could 
at the same time to make him hear. 

Jean Paul raised his head. 

“Come here! come quickly! I have something to 
say to you, my dear friend.” 

Jean Paul came near the door of the lodge. 

“Don’t go that way! not that way!” cried M. 
Fumeron, still in a low voice. “Come, speak to me 
here at the window.” 

Jean Paul obeyed, quite surprised, at being called 
“My dear friend” by M. Fumeron. 

“You see that it would not do to disturb that large 
gentleman who is speaking to my wife there, before 
the door of the lodge, my little Jean Paul; he is the 
owner of this house. He always lives in the country, 
and in that he is very wise. I do not know what has 
made him come to Paris to-day, when it is so pleasant 
in the country. In a word, I must tell you, my dear 
Jean Paul, that he has come to see his house, and you 
know my wife does not like me to fatigue myself. For 
six months I have wanted to clean that horrid back 
staircase, you understand!” 

“Ah! I think you would have done well to have 
cleaned it, Monsieur Fumeron! for mud, dust, spiders, 
and many worse things are on it! If I were the 
owner-” 

“You are quite right, my dear little friend,” inter¬ 
rupted M. Fumeron, lifting his duster and broom in 
an agitated manner towards the sky. “Well, look! 
here is a duster, a broom, a sponge, and a bucket of 



238 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

fresh water; go, my dear Jean Paul, go quickly, and 
clean up those frightful steps; while I’ll go to the owner 
to keep him from being impatient.’’ 

Jean Paul was so astonished at this proposal, that 
he started back and let all the things fall on the pave¬ 
ment that M. Fumeron had given him. 

“My little Jean Paul,” he began again in a beseech¬ 
ing voice, and with clasped hands. “You want me to 
lose my place! you want me to die of hunger!” 

“No,” answered the child, “but this is Thursday, 
the day we go to Catechism; I have on my best clothes. 
It is already late—I must go.” 

And his inward thought was: “You have always 
been so cross to me, that I do not feel inclined to do 
your dirty work.” 

“But you have plenty of time before the Catechism,” 
M. Fumeron answered in a low voice. “You have still 
a good half-hour, my little Jean Paul. I beg you to 
do it!” 

Jean Paul did not answer. He saw M. Fumeron no 
longer, nor his grinning face, still uglier, with its de¬ 
ceitful smile and with its artful expressions of friend¬ 
ship, than it was with its usual brutal expression. No, 
he heard at the bottom of his heart, the voice of Jesus, 
which repeated, “Love your enemies.” “Do good to 
those who hate you.” He remained a moment motion¬ 
less; then without saying a word to M. Fumeron, he 
stooped down, picked up the broom, the duster, and the 
sponge, took the bucket and went towards the staircase. 
He ran up into his room, took off his new blouse, 
turned up the sleeves of his shirt, as well as the legs 
of his trowsers, and began resolutely his disagreeable 


Monsieur Fumeron Has His Staircase Washed 239 

task. All at once he stopped; he just then remembered 
that there were one hundred and ten steps to this terrible 
staircase. He heaved a deep sigh, and began his work 
again with more ardor than ever. 

The higher stories were cleaned very easily, and very 
fast. But those below were incrusted with dirt, owing 
principally to that horrid dyer, and his nasty drugs. At 
last Jean Paul had washed them all; he was as red as 
fire. He put the brush and other utensils in a dark 
corner of the vestibule, and went and washed himself 
at the pump in the yard. He saw the owner, who, con¬ 
ducted by M. Fumeron, crossed the yard, and went 
towards the staircase. 

'‘I did not finish them too soon,” said our friend to 
himself. 

He ran up as fast as he could to his little room, put 
on his blouse, took his books and went down stairs 
again. Just as he passed before the lodge, he was 
seized by the strong arm of Mme. Fumeron, who held 
him forcibly, in spite of all his efforts to get away. 
The owner was still there, he was just going to leave. 
He was delighted with the way his house was kept, and 
he showed his satisfaction by giving a five-franc piece 
to Mme. Fumeron. 

As soon as the proprietor’s back was turned, Mme. 
Fumeron put the five-franc piece in Jean Paul’s hand. 

“You have earned it fairly, my poor child, I saw all 
that was going on from the corner of my eye; you have 
done us a great service,” she said. 

But a hand was slipped in Jean Paul’s hand before 
he could shut it, and had taken away the piece. 

“How can you do that, my wife?” said M. Fumeron, 


240 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

putting the piece in his waistcoat pocket, and buttoning 
his great coat over it, to make it more sure. “If any 
one has earned the piece it is I; for was it not my idea 
to make Jean Paul clean the staircase ?” 

Mme. Fumeron ran after her husband, who went 
into the lodge. 

“Stay there, my boy/’ she said to Jean Paul; “you 
shall have the piece in five minutes.” 

But Jean Paul, instead of waiting, took to his heels, 
and ran as fast as he could. “I did that for the sake 
of God,” he said, “I do not want to be paid for it. I 
would not have done it for five francs. And then, my 
poor Catechism! How late I am! There is half past 
two striking by the church clock! I will arrive at least 
a half an hour too late! Oh how vexed I am!” 


Chapter XXXI 


Jean Paul is misunderstood 



LITTLE after four o’clock, all the children came 


** out from the Catechism. For a few minutes the 
church steps were filled with a crowd of little girls and 
boys, who soon went off into the neighboring streets. 

Madeleine and Jean Paul joined each other as usual, 
and returned together to the old house. Thursday, 
after Catechism, they had holiday, and often took ad¬ 
vantage of it to take a nice walk together. But this 
day, although it was fine weather, they seemed sad, and 
walked silently along. 

“Madeleine,” Jean Paul said suddenly, “promise me 
to do what I am going to ask you.” 

“First ask me, and I will promise afterwards.” 

“No, you must promise first,” said Jean Paul. 

“Tell me what you want to ask me,” she answered. 

“No, I have thought of it too long for that; if you 
were to refuse me, it would trouble me very much. 
First promise!” 

“There is no harm at least, in what you want to 
make me do?” 

“Madeleine! how could you think so ?” 

“Oh, I promise,” Madeleine said quickly. 

“Honor bright?” 

“Honor bright! Tell me quick, what have I prom¬ 


ised?” 


241 


242 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

“You have promised to come with me to buy a dress 
for one of my sisters. Come, let us run to the boule¬ 
vard Sebastopol. There are some fine shops there, and 
here is the money.” He drew from his pocket a little 
bundle of paper. “There are six francs.” 

Madeleine seemed angry as well as surprised: “I 
thought you gave all your money to mamma.” 

Jean Paul was embarrassed. “I gave her all the big 
pieces—but I saved this. I can assure you that I made 
this besides. And then I knew that my sister was ab¬ 
solutely in need of a dress.” 

“Your sister! which sister? Your mother wrote that 
they all had new dresses. Is it for Angele?” 

“No, and I will not tell you for which one.” 

“For Caroline?” 

“No.” 

“For little Marie?” 

“No.” 

“Then it is for—Oh! what’s her name? I have for¬ 
gotten her name. What is it then?” 

“Bravo! forget her name as much as you will! but 
come with me at once and choose the dress while there 
is still a little light. You know the stuffs ladies wear, 
while I, you know, could not tell wadding from Satan.” 

“Satin, not Satan.” Madeleine smiled, but began 
again more seriously, and even made a little face: 
“But I assure you I do not feel inclined to laugh, Jean 
Paul; mamma will be very much displeased. I know 
that she is saving all your money, to buy six new shirts 
for you. No, come, let us go back home, be good. I’ll 
let you go all alone. I am going to leave you.” 

“And it is this that Madeleine calls, ‘Honor bright!’ 


Jean Paul is Misunderstood 243 

Well, good-bye, Madeleine, I will buy my dress by 
myself; I will make a very poor purchase, but I will 
spend my six francs all the same.” The two children 
separated, the one going one way, and one the other. 

Soon Madeleine came back to Jean Paul, sighing 
deeply: “I have promised! I must go with you. Be¬ 
sides, since you will buy this dress, it is better that it 
should be well chosen. Then it is for— What’s her 
name ? for-” 

Jean Paul laughed: “You have hit it!—it is 
for-” 

They had arrived before one of those immense 
shops, large as a town, and were stopping to admire 
the goods in the window. The daylight was over, all 
the lamps were lighted, which seemed to redouble the 
splendor of the silks. 

“Tell me, Madeline, you would like very much, 
wouldn’t you, that fine red Satan dress with white 
spots?” He pointed out to her a showy evening dress. 

“I,” cried Madeleine, “ah! ah! what should I do with 
your Satan when it rained on Sundays, or even when 
it did not rain ?” 

“You name it well—Satan, my pretty child,” said 
a mild, grave, and tremulous voice behind her. “These 
handsome dresses have often tempted and hurried into 
evil more than one young girl.” 

Jean Paul and Madeleine, quite ashamed that any 
one had overheard their conversation, hurried into the 
shop. 

Madeleine chose a stuff of blue and black, which she 
said would be still prettier in daytime, and would last 
very long. 




244 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

It was measured, and cut, and was wrapped up in 
gray paper, and the neat bundle was handed to Jean 
Paul. 

Jean Paul paid for it, went out of the shop, took 
Madeleine by the hand, and ran along with her to the 
old house. 

Jean Paul put his bundle in his room, and joined 
Madeleine again at her mother’s. 

It was late. Both hurried to set the table. They 
had hardly finished, when M. Bienfait came in, and 
they sat down to dinner. 

“Well, children,” said M. Bienfait, after they had 
eaten their soup, and their hunger was a little satisfied, 
“well, children, is not this Thursday? And you have 
not yet spoken of the Catechism! Come, then, give us 
some account of it.” 

“Very bad, father, very bad,” said Madeleine quickly. 

“What, very bad?” M. Bienfait turned towards 
Jean Paul. “Very bad, Jean Paul?” 

Jean Paul bent his head over his plate, blushed, and 
did not answer. 

Madeleine /said in a very lively manner, “I will tell 
you all about it, father. There are always some chil¬ 
dren who come very late, and every Thursday Monsieur 
Bordiac, the director of the Catechism, scolds them, and 
advises them to come earlier the next time. To-day 
there were more children late than usual, and the one 
who arrived last, the last of all, was Jean Paul. The 
prayer was said, the psalm was sung, and they had 
almost finished saying the Catechism; and then-” 

M. Bienfait turned to Jean Paul. “How did that 



Jean Paul is Misunderstood 245 

happen, my child? you left the workshop at half-past 
twelve o’clock, didn’t you?” 

Jean Paul nodded yes. 

Madeleine began again, talking hurriedly: “Well, 
I did not quit the workshop until one o’clock, and my 
workshop is a great deal further from the church than 
Jean Paul’s—and I arrived before the prayer was 
begun.” 

Now Mme. Bienfait spoke severely: “What were 
you doing, Jean Paul, all that time? Where were you? 
Answer.” 

Jean Paul held his head still lower down over his 
plate, and blushed more than ever. 

Madeleine talked with great animation. “And then, 
father, Monsieur Bordiac was very much dissatisfied, 
and he said that-” 

M. Bienfait interrupted her: “Hush, Madeleine! 
you stun us with your noise. Come, Jean Paul, an¬ 
swer. Where were you? and what were you doing in 
that time?” 

“Why don’t you answer, Jean Paul?” asked Made¬ 
leine. “You left a half an hour before me, and I 
arrived in good time.” 

Jean Paul said in a very low voice, with tears in his 
eyes, “Naughty Madeleine!” 

Madeleine became more and more animated. “And 
why don’t you answer when my father speaks to you? 
Father, who is so good to you! See, mamma, Jean 
Paul has all sorts of mysteries to-day. After Cate¬ 
chism, he went and bought a dress for his sister, with 
the money which he had put away, and hid.” 



246 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

Jean Paul got up, his face wet with tears. “Naughty, 
naughty Madeleine !” 

He opened the door, and shut it to violently, then 
ran and hid himself in his room. 

In Mme. Bienfait’s room they continued to eat 
silently. 

“Madeleine talks too much, and she loves to govern 
others too much!” the good Mme. Bienfait said, slowly 
and mildly. 

It was Madeleine’s turn to hold down her head. The 
dinner was finished very sadly, without another word 
being spoken. 

After dinner M. Bienfait took a book; and Mme. 
Bienfait and Madeleine cleared away the table. 

Meanwhile the chamber door was opened very softly, 
and they saw looking in a pleasant round face all smil¬ 
ing, though still wet with tears. It was Jean Paul. 
He ran to Madeleine, and threw his arms around her. 

“Madelichon,” he said to her, “1 can’t be angry with 
you. I can’t indeed! or if I want to be so, I must go to 
some other place than my room. Just now, when I 
went there, it seemed to me that I became the Jean Paul 
of old times; abandoned, miserable, without a friend! 
Who has made me happy, who has taken care of me, 
who has loved me? You all; and you, Madeleine, first 
of all. Yes, I am very sure that I was in the wrong, 
that I am always wrong; and that you are always right. 
So, I am going to tell you; this dress—but where is it 
then? I know I brought it with me.” 

“You have let it fall,” said Mme. Bienfait picking 
up a bundle from the floor, “and you are walking over 
it. Fortunately it is wrapped up.” 


Jean Paul is Misunderstood 


247 


“Well, I did not dare to tell you for which of my 
sisters it was intended.” 

“Louise! I have found her name,” said Madeleine. 

“Not at all.” Jean Paul kissed her. “It is for my 
sister here.” He pointed to Madeleine. “It has been 
a long time since I heard Mamma Bienfait say that you 
wanted a dress. Do you think it is pretty? I wanted 
to keep it for Sunday, your birthday, but Mademoiselle 
Madelichon does not like mysteries.” 

Madeleine was quite touched. “You are too good, 
Jean Paul. I ought to have guessed that this dress was 
for me. But you kept saying, ‘It is for my sister.' ” 

“Well, have I not told the truth? Have you not all 
been to me a father, a mother, a good little sister, 
Madeleine ?” 

He went around the room and embraced them all, 
as he always did when his gratitude overflowed. Mme. 
Bienfait gave him a little tap on his cheek: “I have a 
great mind to scold you,” said she, “you have spent 
your money foolishly.” 

Madeleine leaned towards Jean Paul. 

“I did not deserve this pretty dress,” said she to him. 
“I have given you pain, pardon me.” 

Jean Paul put his hand on her mouth. 

“And then,” he said aloud, and jumping with joy, 
“the idea that tormented me the most when I was in 
my room, was that Madeleine would have all the dishes 
to wash, which would soil her hands. Quick! how late 
lam!” . ~ KiRffl 

“Good, good Jean Paul!” said Madeleine, with tears 
in her eyes. 

At last the dinner-table is cleared, the dishes are 


248 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

washed, and everything is put in order in Mme. 
Bienfait’s room. But it is too late for Madeleine or 
Jean Paul to begin to sew or to read. They finished 
the evening talking together near the window. Made¬ 
leine was seated on a chair, Jean Paul on a stool at her 
feet; it was his favorite place. 

Madeleine did not remember the gentle reproach that 
her mother had made her, for she still talked a great 
deal, and with more animation than ever. Jean Paul 
scarcely answered, and spoke so low that Madeleine 
had to lean towards him to hear him. 

Suddenly she got up and came to her mother. 

“Mamma,” said she, “I am too wicked; I am posi¬ 
tively detestable.” 

M. and Mme. Bienfait stopped their reading and 
work, and fixed their eyes upon her; they felt inclined 
to laugh at this sudden confession. 

“Mother and father,” she said, “do you know why 
this poor Jean Paul that I worried so much to-day at 
dinner came too late to the Cat —” 

Jean Paul jumped up, ran to her, and put his hand 
on her mouth. 

“Do not tell it, Madeleine! do not tell it, I beg of 
you.” 

“Oh! but I did not promise this time: On the con¬ 
trary, I will tell all. Well, mamma, he came too late 
to the Catechism because he washed our staircase from 
top to bottom.” 

“What, our staircase? and why did he do it?” cried 
M. Bienfait. 

“That is the reason that it is so clean!” cried Mme. 
Bienfait. “I was enchanted this afternoon, coming up, 


Jean Paul is Misunderstood 249 

and I said to myself, M. Fumeron is turning over a 
new leaf.” 

"Not at all, mamma! it was this poor Jean Paul who 
washed them from one end to the other, before going 
to Catechism.” 

M. Bienfait said roguishly, "The time was badly 
chosen-” 

"No, no, my little father, the owner was there, and 
Monsieur Fumeron said to Jean Paul that if he did not 
wash the staircase quickly for them the owner would 
turn them out. This old Fumeron begged Jean Paul 

so much-” she stopped and turned quickly towards 

Jean Paul. "I believe that this Fumeron was always 
very cross to you?” 

Jean Paul said, "That was the very reason I did not 
want to refuse him.” 

Madeleine went up to Mme. Bienfait. "Oh! mother, 
see! Monsieur Fumeron was cross to him—he did his 
work—Madeline teased him—he bought her a dress. 
I really feel like crying. I am as bad as Monsieur 
Fumeron.” 

She was silent, and held down her head. 

Mme. Bienfait looked at her thoughtfully, although 
half laughing. 

Madeleine took her handkerchief from her pocket 
to wipe her eyes, and began to cry very much; a little 
match box fell upon the floor. 

"Oh! how thoughtless I am!” said she, laughing 
through her tears. "It is only now that I have thought 
of this!” 

She picked up the little box, and threw it to Jean 
Paul. 




250 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

'‘Look! that will console me a little. You will see 
that I am not always so bad as I have been this evening. 
Every day lately, at the workshop, I have worked for 
you at lunch hours. Come, look at all this by the lamp; 
that will amuse you. Do you see?” she said opening 
the little box, and taking from it all sorts of little 
things. “My lady was not in the latest fashion. I 
must tell you, Jean Paul, that crinolines are not worn 
now. Look at this little narrow skirt of violet-colored 
silk, with a long train. It is disgraceful, isn’t it? and 
this large bow of violet-colored ribbon to fasten up the 
train when it is muddy; what do you say to that ? Then 
here is a trimmed petticoat to wear under the dress, and 
a pork-pie hat.” 

Madeleine stopped—she seemed quite vexed. 

“Oh! what a misfortune!” she said. 

“What is it?” said Jean Paul, quite uneasy. 

“My hat does not fit,” said Madeleine. “I had for¬ 
gotten that my lady had no chignon. It would be im¬ 
possible to wear one of these hats without a chignon. 
This is distressing!” 

“Make her one, then,” said Mme. Bienfait, laughing. 

“Still more impossible!” said Madeleine. “She has 
not hair enough.” 

“If it were only the ladies who had much hair, who 
wore chignons,” answered Mme. Bienfait, “we would 
see very few of them. Here, take this little piece of 
white wadding, roll it, and fasten it to the hat.” 

“Hurrah! hurrah!” said Jean Paul. “Oh! the 
beautiful hair of my lady! I will bring them to try on 
all these beautiful things. It is wonderful! Made- 
linette, how nice you are!” 


Jean Paul is Misunderstood 251 

A moment after Jean Paul came back, bringing his 
little animals with him. 

“Let us try on all the new clothes at once. Look, 
here is the dress; put it on her-” 

“How droll this dress is!” said Jean Paul, who was 
turning it every way. “I thought it was a violet- 
colored silk, and it is black, and made of wool.” 

“You have left your eyes in your room, my poor 
Jean Paul. What! do you not see that it is a cloth 
riding habit, and made of fine black cloth! all the fash¬ 
ionable ride on horseback now, and I wanted to make 
a riding habit for Rosette.” 

“For my lady, you mean.” 

Madeleine tried hard to restrain a laugh. “For 
Rosette.” 

Jean Paul looked at the table. “And the hat with 
the chignon-” 

“A hat with a chignon worn with a riding habit! 
Who ever heard of such a thing? Jean Paul, what 
taste you have! Look! there is a real man's hat with a 
green veil, and a riding whip! It was a match which 
I covered with kid. Now, Jean Paul, dress Rosette; 
you seem quite confounded.” 

Jean Paul began to dance the mountain dance in the 
middle of the room. 

“Not so astonished as you think, Mademoiselle 
Madeleine! I beg you to show me now the handsome 
violet-colored silk dress, and the hat and chignon, which 
you hid while I was in my room. You are playing a 
farce with me; you have made two complete costumes, 
one for my lady and one for Rosette.” He danced 
around the room. “And I am so happy! so happy!” 




252 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

At last Jean Paul became more calm, and sat down 
by Madeleine quite out of breath. They both dressed 
my lady and her maid in their new costumes, which 
were pronounced delicious, lovely, and not to be sur¬ 
passed; and our heroines were as much admired as if 
they were making their first appearance. 


Chapter XXXII 


Jean Paul regains his reputation 

A WEEK has passed. It is Thursday. Our big 
-*** and little friends have just sat down to dinner. 

“Well, father,” Madeleine began before she was 
scarcely seated. “You do not ask us how our Cate¬ 
chism passed to-day. It is Thursday however. Oh! if 
you knew!” 

“My child, take time to eat your soup, I beg of you.” 

Madeleine ate two spoonfuls and then began again. 
“Oh! if you only knew, father! to-day we both ar¬ 
rived early. They had hardly said the prayers and 
recited the lessons, when Monsieur Bordiac cried out in 
a loud voice, ‘Jean Paul!’ and then Jean Paul got up, as 
red as fire.” 

“But how did you see that?” demanded Mme. Bien- 
fait. “I thought you sat on the fourth bench behind 
Jean Paul.” 

“But I saw the back of his neck, which was quite 
red, I assure you. And now let me tell you what Mon¬ 
sieur Bordiac said: ‘Jean Paul, is it a great sin to come 
too late to Catechism V 

“Jean Paul did not answer aloud, but I saw by the 
motion of his head, that he said yes. 

“ ‘I do not say that for you/ said Monsieur Bordiac, 
‘for generally you are in very good time; but I want to 
253 


254 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

ask you if it is a very great fault to arrive once by 
chance too late at the Catechism ?’ 

" 'Yes, Monsieur,’ answered Jean Paul, with his 
good strong voice. 

“ 'Even if one stays at home to do a good action,’ 
said Monsieur Bordiac. 

" ‘Yes, Monsieur,’ said Jean Paul. 

"Then Monsieur Bordiac began to laugh, and all the 
children too.” 

Jean Paul interrupted Madeleine. "I did not know 
very well what he asked me; I was so frightened; I 
only knew that I had come too late last Thursday.” 

Madeleine continued. "Monsieur Bordiac went on 
as if he wanted to teach Jean Paul a little. 

" 'But now, my child, if, for example, you remained 
at home to do a great service to a friend, or even an 
enemy, would you be very guilty for coming a little too 
late to your Catechism?’ 

" 'Yes,’ Jean Paul still answered. 

"Everybody laughed—Monsieur Bordiac, the mam¬ 
mas, and the children. 

" 'Well, my dear friend,’ said Monsieur Bordiac, 
'you are too severe.’ ” 

"You forget, Madeleine,” said Jean Paul, "that he 
added immediately, 'However, my children, you must 
remember that in general, the best act you can do is to 
arrive punctually at the hour of the Catechism.’ ” 

Madeleine interrupted him: "And then he said, 
'Come, get a picture, Jean Paul.’ ” 

Jean Paul continued: "When I came quite near 
him, he gave me a pretty picture, and said to me in a 
low voice, 'I have scratched out the bad mark I gave 


Jean Paul Regains His Reputation 255 

you last Thursday for want of punctuality. Continue, 
my child, to love those who hate you, and God will 
bless you.” 

“So you see, father, how strange it is! The persons 
who teach the Catechism know all that the children 
do” 

Then it was M. Bienfait’s turn to laugh. “Particu¬ 
larly when the mammas of these children go and pay 
them visits.” 

And Mme. Bienfait laughed also. “But, my friend, 
I would not let Monsieur Bordiac think that my Jean 
Paul was an idler and wasted his time.” 

Madeleine was quite astonished. “Why, mamma! 
have you been to see Monsieur Bordiac? you have 
dared to go to his house!” 

“Certainly; many mothers visit the clergymen. It 
is the least they can do to thank them for all the trouble 
they take in instructing their naughty children. Mon¬ 
sieur Bordiac is very well satisfied with Jean Paul 
and Madeleine, I am glad to say; and he hopes they 
will be prepared to make their first Communion this 
year.” 

When spring came, Jean Paul and Madeleine went 
to the church on the holy day which was to make them 
its members. As they knelt before the altar, side by 
side, each said a little prayer for the other, before their 
thoughts turned wholly to God. When the day was 
over, they took off their special garments, and went 
back to their humble work. But their hearts kept on 
joyously singing the praises of the dear, good, merciful 
God. 


Chapter XXXIII 


A mystery 

T WO years had passed. Jean Paul had become a 
skilful workman. His apprenticeship was nearly 

over. 

Madeleine stayed at home, and worked with her 
mother. They were never either one of them without 
plenty of work; but it was health which failed them. 
Every winter M. Bienfait had some attacks of his 
painful rheumatism, and Mme. Bienfait was often con¬ 
fined to her chamber for months with a cold. 

This winter seemed to be harder for our friends 
than usual. It was not a cold this time, but it was that 
terrible bronchitis that had again attacked Mme. Bien¬ 
fait; for a month she was confined to her bed, and 
scarcely left it. 

There was another bed made in the little room for 
M. Bienfait, who was kept there by his frightful rheu¬ 
matism. For Madeleine could not bear the idea of his 
returning to the hospital. She took care of them both, 
and she and Jean Paul took turns in sitting up with 
them at night. 

At last they are better, those dearly loved parents. 
They have left their beds, and are sitting near the fire¬ 
place. But their convalescence lasted all winter. When 
Jean Paul came back from his work, he was struck 
with the thinness of Madeleine, and her pallid looks. 
256 


257 


A Mystery 

Although she had great need of rest, the poor little 
thing worked early and late. She was afraid of losing 
her customers; and besides she was the only one in the 
house who earned anything. 

Jean Paul’s apprenticeship was not yet finished. It 
was in vain that he tried to show my lady and Rosette. 
The poor ladies had become very old. Their backs 
were bent, their legs trembled, and their long hair fell 
around their throats like long white beards. They 
needed rest also—the rest of old age. 

Meanwhile, as the spring approached, Madeleine be¬ 
gan to hope. She thought that the heat would restore 
the health of her dear parents. She thought also, that 
very soon the three years of Jean Paul’s apprenticeship 
would be over. Madeleine had made all her calcula¬ 
tions; with what she made, and the little savings her 
parents had put aside before their sickness, she had just 
enough money to last until Jean Paul’s apprenticeship 
was over. 

“Dear Madeleine,’’ he said to her very often, “when 
shall I earn good wages, and bring you my money in 
the evening? You will then have time to rest, won’t 
you? and I shall again see your gay face of old.” 

Jean Paul had become the life of the house; when 
he came in, happy and strong, to his dinner, it seemed 
like a ray of sunshine. He told M. Bienfait all that 
was done in the workshop; he made Madeleine laugh; 
he talked for a long time with Mme. Bienfait and 
caressed her. 

One evening, however, he seemed full of care. He 
talked, and even laughed, but it was with effort. 

The next day he did not laugh; and talked very little. 


258 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

His eyes were fixed upon vacancy, for he did not seem 
to see anything. 

The third day he was quite gloomy and silent. Made¬ 
leine could not help asking him why he was so sad. 
But Jean Paul neither heard nor answered her. After 
dinner, he felt in his pocket. 

“A letter from my mother,” he said, “that Madame 
Fumeron gave to me. I had forgotten that.” 

He drew near the lamp, and seemed to read it eagerly. 
He finished the letter, then read it over again, folded 
it, and put it in his pocket. 

“Is your mother well?” asked the good Madeleine. 

“Yes, thank you,” answered Jean Paul. 

“Your sisters? and everybody?” asked Madeleine 
again, who hoped that Jean Paul would as usual read 
his mother’s letter aloud. 

“Everybody is well, thank you,” said Jean Paul. 

Then he helped Madeleine to clear away the table, 
and put the dishes in order. He did not talk, and twice 
he was very near letting a plate fall that he carried. 
Besides, he did not seem to know what he was about, 
for he put the soup tureen in the wardrobe, and the 
remains of the butter in the drawer of the bureau. 
Madeleine saw it all, and put the things in order with¬ 
out saying a word. 

M. and Mme. Bienfait went to bed early. Madeleine 
sat up, and worked alongside of them. 

Jean Paul had gone to his room. 

In about an hour, M. Bienfait fell asleep. Made¬ 
leine heard some one knock softly at the door. She 
got up on tiptoe to open it. 

It was Jean Paul. He beckoned to her to come out 


A Mystery 259 

and speak to him in the entry, so as not to wake up 
her parents. 

Madeleine went out of the room, and shut the door 
softly. 

“Madeleine,” said Jean Paul, in so low and trem¬ 
bling a voice, that she could hardly hear him. “Have 
you still those twenty-five francs that your mother 
put away before she was sick, to buy me a coat?” 

“Certainly,” said Madeleine, blushing, “they are in 
the drawer.” 

“Then, will you give them to me ?” 

Madeleine was quite confounded. “Why did not 
Jean Paul ask for them before my mother?” she said 
to herself. 

“But—” said she, quite embarrassed. 

“They are mine,” said Jean Paul quickly. “Give 
them to me.” 

“Oh! immediately,” said Madeleine, wounded at Jean 
Paul’s tone. 

She went back into the room and came out again 
in a minute, holding a little bundle of paper in her 
hand. 

“Here they are,” said she, giving them to Jean 
Paul. 

“And now, good-bye, Madeleine,” he said, turning 
his head away, and taking her by the hand; “pray to 
the good God for me. I am going to start to-morrow 
for Escaladios.” 

He stopped suddenly, ran into his room, and shut 
the door violently. 

Madeleine remained a few minutes, motionless, at the 
place where he had left her. She came to her friend’s 


260 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

door. She wanted to speak to him—it was impossible 
that he could go away in this manner. Just as she 
was going to knock, she let her hand fall again. It 
seemed to her that it was no longer the same Jean 
Paul of old. She went into her mother’s room, sat 
down and began to work again. But she did not do a 
single stitch. She remained with her eyes fixed, and 
full of tears. 

“Meanwhile, he is there yet,” she said to herself, 
“just near me. If I were to wake up father, and tell 
him all! Jean Paul must not go away in this manner.” 

She got up and came to the bed, and looked for a 
moment at her father’s thin face. 

“No,” said she, “sleep on, dear father, forget your 
pains, and rest yourself.” 

It struck eleven o’clock. 

“And I am doing nothing, and am letting the lamp 
burn! so wasteful as I am!” 

She went into her little room, said a long prayer, 
and went to bed, but it was not to sleep. She did not 
want to sleep, she listened for the least sound. 

“I shall hear him get up,” said she, “and I will not 
let him go away.” 

However, towards the morning, her tired eyes closed. 

It was bright day when she heard her mother come 
to her chamber door and say to her father, 

“Our Madeleine is still asleep. So much the better; 
poor child, she has great need of rest.” 

Madeleine jumped up, and dressed quickly. She 
ran to Jean Paul’s door. The key was in the lock. 
She knocked once, twice, no answer; she went in, there 
was no one there, the room was empty. She ran hastily 


261 


A Mystery 

down to Mme. Fumeron. The good woman had seen 
Jean Paul go out at six o’clock in the morning. 

“Did he speak to you?” asked Madeleine. 

“No, he seemed in a great hurry. He carried a big 
bundle at the end of a stick.” 

Madeleine did not answer. She flew across the yard 
like an arrow, ran up the long staircase, went into her 
mother’s room, and fell quite breathless into a chair. 

She was as white as a sheet. Her mother came to her 
and took her hand. 

“You should not run up so quickly, darling,” said 
she to her. “And why do you go so often up and down 
that tiresome staircase?” 

“Oh! mamma, it is nothing,” answered Madeleine, 
who was thinking how she could tell her parents of the 
departure of Jean Paul without giving them pain. 

“Oh! Oh! my darling, you are almost fainting!” 
said M. Bienfait. “Give her a little wine, wife. Where 
is your pain, dear child?” 

“Nowhere, darling father, it is—you see—Jean 
Paul-” 

“Jean Paul?” repeated Madame Bienfait. 

“He has gone away, mamma, he has gone back to 
his own country.” 

“It is impossible!” interrupted M. Bienfait. “He 
was here last night as usual, and he did not think of 
leaving us.” 

“When you were asleep, father and mother, he called 
me and asked me for his money,” continued Madeleine. 
“You know, mamma, his twenty-five francs, that were 
left from his last summer’s money. I did not dare 
to refuse him, and then he told me that he was going 



262 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

away the next morning. I have been to Madame Fu- 
meron’s. She saw him going out this morning very 
early with a bundle.” 

‘'And why did he go off this way, without telling 
us?” asked M. Bienfait. 

“I do not know,” answered Madeleine, “I only know 
that he received a letter from his mother yesterday.” 

“His mother is perhaps very ill,” suggested Mme. 
Bienfait. 

“I do not think so,” answered Madeleine. “He told 
me that everybody was well, and besides, the letter was 
long, and beautifully written; at least it looked so 
to me.” 

“It is very strange,” said M. Bienfait, sighing deeply, 
“that this child, who loved us so much, should go off 
without saying good-bye, or speaking an affectionate 
word to us.” 

Mme. Bienfait did not answer; she would not look 
at her husband or Madeleine, for her eyes were filled 
with tears. 

“What fine weather!” said M. Bienfait. “I will go 
out and take a little turn. I am tired of staying in the 
house.” 

This was the first time for three months that M. 
Bienfait had crossed the threshold of his door. 

“My father! my friend!” cried Mme. Bienfait and 
Madeleine at the same time. 

“Are you strong enough to walk the street?” added 
Mme. Bienfait. 

“I will go with you,” said Madeleine, running at 
once to get her bonnet and shawl. 

“I feel very well; it is very mild weather, and I 


A Mystery 263 

want to go out alone,” said M. Bienfait, emphasizing 
each word. 

He did not add that he wanted to go to the workshop 
to speak about Jean Paul. 

He came in but a short time before dinner. Mme. 
Bienfait and Madeleine ran to meet him. 

“You are tired,” cried Madeleine. 

“No, no, my child, no,” he answered, a little roughly. 

He sat down upon a chair, and Madeleine finished 
setting the table. 

“Ah, well,” said M. Bienfait, after a moment’s si¬ 
lence; “I have just come from the workshop.” 

“And has he really started for Escaladios?” said 
Mme. Bienfait. 

“I only saw the new apprentice, that young German. 
He was taking care of the shop. The owner was 
out.” 

“What did he tell you father?” 

“When I asked him where Jean Paul was, he said 
that he would not be there to-day, he had gone to his 
own country, very, very far off; his apprenticeship was 
over.” 

“So a child, a stranger, knew that Jean Paul had 
started! It must have been a settled plan for a long 
time! He has spoken of it to everybody excepting 
us,” said Madeleine. 

“I waited for the return of the master until night¬ 
fall, but in vain,” said M. Bienfait. “I would perhaps 
have learned from him something more positive.” 

“It is true,” continued Madeleine thoughtfully,” that 
his apprenticeship is over. He knows his trade; he can 
now gain his livelihood. He does not need us any 


264 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

longer. He will return to his mother, and forget us 
just as you most need him.” 

“Come, come, let us sit down to dinner,” said the 
good Mme. Bienfait, wishing to put a stop to this pain¬ 
ful conversation. 

All three sat down. There was one place empty. 

“And I set a plate for him, fool that I was!” mur¬ 
mured Madeleine. 

She got up hurriedly, and took away hastily the 
glass, the plate, and the spoon which she had placed 
for Jean Paul. The tears ran down her cheeks. 

“The ungrateful fellow, to leave you this way, my 
darling parents, and after all that you have done for 
him! I would have liked better never to have known 
him. I hate the day when I went for the first time to 
look at his mice, and when I made his acquaintance.” 

“Child,” said M. Bienfait, mildly and seriously, “re¬ 
gret nothing. We have done good to Jean Paul, and 
we must not repent that we have done it. If he is 
ungrateful, it is he who is to be pitied. God perhaps 
brought him to us to give us an opportunity of doing 
a little good. Is our good action blotted out by the 
sudden departure of your friend, dear little Made¬ 
leine ?” he said tenderly to her, at the same time putting 
his hand under the chin of his daughter, and forcing 
her to raise her head and look at him. 

“You are right, darling father,” said she; “but it is 
very hard.” 

“Do not let us speak of it any more,” said M. Bien¬ 
fait. 

He began to speak of the walks that he had taken 
that day, and of the shops he had seen, and so on; he 


265 


A Mystery 

tried to be gay, but when he had done talking, Mme. 
Bienfait and Madeleine sighed, and did not answer. 

All three thought of Jean Paul. He knew all the 
news, he sang all the pretty new songs of the time! 
and then when anything was wanting upon the table, 
how he jumped from his chair to run and get it, and 
gave it laughing to whoever wanted it! Where is he, 
this dear Jean Paul? Where is he? 

Just as the dinner was finished Madeleine broke the 
silence. 

“Positively I will not speak any more of him—it 
gives me too much pain!” cried she. 

“Then why do you speak of him, darling child?” 
said Mme. Bienfait, kissing her affectionately. 

“I can’t help thinking of him!” replied she, with 
tears in her eyes, “the room seems quite empty, doesn’t 
it, father?” 

“Not when you are in it, dear Madelinette,” an¬ 
swered he, forcing a smiling. But in truth he thought 
as she did. 


Chapter XXXIV 


My lady and Rosette do not go on the journey 



WO days, three days passed. Our friends were 


-■* weighed down with grief. Madeleine was paler 
than ever; her father and mother seemed also more 
unwell. None of them spoke of Jean Paul, but they 
all thought of him and suffered. 

One afternoon, Madeleine was working very hard 
to finish a dress for one of her customers. She stopped 
short—put her head forward, and held her ear to listen. 
Her needle rested in the air, in the hand that held it. 
She threw the dress on the table, and ran out of the 
room like lightning. M. and Mme. Bienfait looked 
quite astonished. Before they had time to say a word 
to each other, Madeleine had come back. 

“Mamma! Papa!” said she, “he has left my lady 
and Rosette! look! here they are in this cage with this 
big piece of bread, which must have been much larger 
when he started! Father, he will come back, you will 
see! he will be back by the time the bread is eaten! 
My dear little lady, and you Rosette, you are very 
sad, aren’t you, at the departure of your good master? 
So you must remain here, and we will keep you com¬ 
pany, and take care of you. And I who did not see 
you when I went into Jean Paul’s room the day he 
left! Excuse me, I was so agitated.” 


266 


267 


Do Not Go On Journey 

“And you are very much excited to-day, my child, 
for you have left the door of Jean Paul’s room open; 
I hear it slamming,” said Mme. Bienfait. 

Madeleine went out again, and then came back 
triumphant. 

“And his book, dear mamma! he has left his father’s 
beautiful book! Oh! now you will not say as you did 
a little while ago by the motion of your head, that he 
will not come back! won’t he return, father?” 

“I do not know, my child. In his hurried departure 
he may have forgotten his mice, and his precious book,” 
said M. Bienfait. 

“Oh, no! darling father; you will see, you will see!” 

That day, and the next, Madeleine was very gay. 
Her father and mother were so happy in seeing her so> 
that they became almost as gay as she. M. Bienfait 
spoke of going to his work again. He had only a pain 
in one of his arms, he said. 

“Stay at home, darling father,” answered Made¬ 
leine, singing; “and, my lady and Rosette, do you eat 
as fast as possible the food that Jean Paul has left 
you, so that he may come home sooner.” 


Chapter XXXV 


M. and Mme. Fumeron lose two lodgers 

r \ A HE next morning the bread was eaten—Made- 
leine had given them more—and Jean Paul had 
not appeared. 

As she did every day, Madeleine went out to buy 
provisions. When she came home, she found at Mme. 
Fumeron’s a letter addressed to her. The handwriting 
was very familiar, and the post-mark was Escaladios. 

Madeleine had been so sure that her friend would 
return that day, that she attached very little importance 
to the poor letter. She entered very quietly into the 
room, unpacked her basket of provisions, and at last 
held out her hand to her father. 

“A letter from Jean Paul,” said she, carelessly. 
“What does he say?” said Mme. Bienfait quickly. 
“It will be very easy to know, for it is very well 
written. Jean Paul does honor to his teacher,” said 
M. Bienfait, while breaking the seal; then he read 
aloud: 

“My Madeleine, mamma Bienfait, and father: 

I must relate all to you—but—no, first of all I must 
embrace all three of you. 

“My Madeleine, the house is rented; M. Legras, the 
owner, wished me to take it. But you cannot understand. 
I must explain it to you. 

“Do you know, Madeleine, I was very much worried 
at Paris. For some time past our employer had very 
268 


M. and Mme. Fumeron Lose Two Lodgers 269 

little work, and just when I expected to make money for 
you, and my parents, he told me that he was going to sell 
his shop, and that I would have to look for work else¬ 
where. I looked for it—but I could not find any! Then 
I remembered that my mother had written a good while 
ago, that the old blacksmith was dead, that he had 
amassed quite a nice sum of money for his children, and 
that there was no one at the forge now, which was a great 
pity. I thought of it over and over again, and then my 
mother wrote me word that M. Legras had not been able 
to rent his forge since the death of the old blacksmith, 
and that he was quite vexed about it. 

“It was forever in my thoughts. And then I saw pla¬ 
carded on all the walls of Paris, in letters as big as my 
head, ‘Excursion trains to Toulouse, return tickets, 
twenty-five francs/ (This is the advantage of knowing 
how to read. Thanks to you, Madeleine.) 

“Then you must know, Madeleine, that all this seethed 
in my head as the famous black beans did in mamma 
Bienfait’s saucepan. I said, ‘If M. Bienfait rents the 
forge, we could work there together, and he could make 
money as the old smith did. Madeleine and mamma 
Bienfait could work with my mother. The summer will 
soon be here; then they will all go to Bigorre, and the 
waters of Bigorre will cure mamma Bienfait’s cough, and 
my father’s rheumatism.’ Madeleine, these waters are so 
good that they cure even the Parisian ladies and gentle¬ 
men who have nothing the matter with them. 

“Then, Madelinette, I started off as if mad. My 
mother was quite surprised at seeing me. She hardly 
recognized me, I had grown so much, and you had taken 
such care of me! and I should not have recognized my 
little sisters. But we will speak of them bye-and-bye. 

“Then, Madeleine, after having asked the advice of 
my mother, I went to look for M. Legras. He has prom¬ 
ised to rent the forge to your father, if your father wants 
it. You cannot imagine how pretty the house at the 
forge is—a large parlor, and two pretty rooms, without 


270 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

counting the workshop—and there is a very pretty gar¬ 
den ! We shall be able to keep a cow and chickens. But 
I will not tell you any more to-day; I must keep some¬ 
thing to talk about, Madeleine. I will be with you almost 
as soon as my letter. I am coming for you. 

“My respects to my parents. 

“Jean Paul. 

“Will you look in my room to see if my lady and 
Rosette have still enough to eat? 

“Mother is writing to your mother; she will explain 
it all much better than I can do-. I forgot to tell you that 
the forge and the little garden rent for a hundred francs 
a year.” 

A letter from Jean Paul’s mother came the next day, 
and confirmed all that Jean Paul had written; she said 
that the old smith had done very well for a great many 
years, and that the house was pretty. 

“My good little Jean Paul!” cried Madeleine. “It 
was I who was ungrateful! We will go to Escaladios, 
won’t we, father?” she said warmly, looking at her 
father. 

“What do you think of it?” asked M. Bienfait of 
his wife. 

“And you?” she said in her turn. 

“This plan pleases me very well,” answered M. 
Bienfait. “It is worth thinking of—living has become 
so dear in Paris!” 

“Particularly when one is sick in the winter,” said 
Madeleine. “If those waters could cure you, my dear 
parents?” 

“They have cured a great many persons,” said M. 
Bienfait. “And then only one hundred francs a year 


M. and Mme. Fumeron Lose Tzvo Lodgers 271 

for a pretty house and garden, when we pay here almost 
double for this small chamber, and Madeleine’s closet!” 

“Well, well, it is settled. Let us start! let us start!” 
cried Madeleine, clapping her hands. 

“And the money for the journey?” said Mme. Bien- 
fait. 

“We shall be able to get that by selling our furni¬ 
ture,” said M. Bienfait. 

Mme. Bienfait looked with regret on her bed, and on 
her pretty bureau, that she had taken care of so lovingly 
since her marriage. 

“What can you do?” said her husband, who under¬ 
stood her look. “They are old friends, it is true; but 
we cannot carry them with us. If you should recover 
your health, and Madeleine become robust, I should 
regret nothing.” 

“Nor I either, dear friend; when you have recovered 
your health and strength I shall be quite happy.” 

The next day but one after, Jean Paul arrived like a 
thunder clap. He nearly broke open the door, in order 
to get in more quickly, that he might smother his 
friends with kisses. He wanted them to start the same 
evening. 

“Wait a minute,” said M. Bienfait, “it will be neces¬ 
sary for me to raise some money before starting.” 

“Let us start! let us start!” repeated Jean Paul. 

Llis friends had a great deal of trouble to make him 
understand that they could only carry their clothes to 
Escaladios, and that they must sell all the rest. Jean 
Paul appeared distressed. “It will take so long!” said 
he. He consoled himself by getting Madeleine to buy, 
with some money his mother had given him, a large 


272 Lady Green Satin and Her Maid Rosette 

trunk, which he made them bring and place in the mid¬ 
dle of his friends’ room, and in which he heaped pell- 
mell all that he could put his hands upon. 

“That is so much done!” said he. 

“And so much to be undone!” thought Mme. Bien- 
fait, who made up her mind that it would be necessary 
to re-arrange her friend’s packing. 

At last, after a week’s preparation, the furniture 
was sold. It was more than enough to pay for their 
journey. M. Bienfait calculated that after arriving at 
Escaladios he would have a hundred francs left to buy 
the most necessary articles. They were to start the 
next day. All was ready. 


Chapter XXXVI 


Monsieur Jean Paul wished it 

r 1 A HE journey was a long pleasure for our two chil- 
dren, and even for their parents. Mme. Bienfait 
had never been beyond the walls of Paris. They were 
amused and enchanted with everything. “We are mak¬ 
ing the tour of France, as the nobility do,” said they; 
—and yet the wooden benches on which they sat in the 
third class cars were very hard. Happy they who are 
contented, and amuse themselves everywhere! 

Our good ladies the mice were of the party. Jean 
Paul was sure that they would be enchanted to return 
to their own country, and that the mountain air would 
bring back all their strength. 

“Ah! then,” said M. Bienfait laughing, “the air for 
the mice, the waters for my wife and me. We shall 
all be cured.” 

The little party entered triumphantly into Escaladios. 


273 


Chapter XXXVII 
The good God permitted it 

T HERE is a large linden tree full of flowers before 
the forge. It was under its shade that the horses 
waited, as well as those who brought them. 

The garden was fragrant with roses, with jasmines, 
pinks and sweet peas, and was quite inundated with 
sunshine. The interior of the forge was as dark as 
night; one could only see there the bright fire inces¬ 
santly kept alive by large bellows; and a bar of red 
iron which two men struck, and kept time with the 
blows while singing. Then they sung no more, but they 
still struck on. 

The song then commenced in the distance, the forge 
hammers accompanying it—Pan, pan, pan, pan! 

It is at his mother’s they are singing. 

It is Madeleine and his sisters who answer Jean Paul 
and M. Bienfait. 

Thus the days pass: they work, and they sing; they 
sing, and they work. 

Jean Paul, however, passed a month quite alone the 
preceding year; his mother and sisters, Madeleine and 
Mme. Bienfait went to Bigorre to work there during 
the bathing season, and M. Bienfait followed them 
there. 

The latter had worked there for a month as a lock¬ 
smith in the town. Every morning he took the famous 
baths, and drank the famous waters. Mme. Bienfait 
followed the same treatment. 

When they both returned to Escaladios, Jean Paul 
found them looking ten years younger. Mme. Bienfait 
274 


The Good God Permitted It 275 

no longer suffered from that painful cough, nor M. 
Bienfait with the rheumatism. 

What famous blows he could give with the hammer 
now! They came to his forge from all parts of the 
country. There was not a handsome horse that was 
not shod by our friend, and not a new house built that 
they were not employed to do the iron work. 

And how well they sewed at his mother’s! There 
was not a farmer’s wife in the country who had not 
her dresses made by her daughters, particularly by the 
eldest, as they called Madeleine. 

Mme. Bienfait and Jean Paul’s mother took care of 
the two houses, the little gardens, the two cows, and 
they had also leisure time to rest themselves, and they 
were grateful to God for all His goodness to them. 

My lady and Rosette lived on their income, in a 
fine large wire cage, hung from the ceiling of the forge. 
Our friends would not have a cat in the house. 











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